UC-NRLF 


)L  EFFICIENCY  MONOGRAPHS 


THE 

RECONSTRUCTED 
SCHOOL 

PEARSON 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 


SCHOOL  EFFICIENCY  MONOGRAPHS 


JUtocm 
Education  of  Defectives  in  the  Public  Schools 

Arjt 
Rural  Education  and  the  Consolidated  School 


Problems  in  State  High  School  Finance 

Cbi0 
Commercial  Tests  and  How  to  Use  Them 

KfctHl 
Record  Forms  for  Vocational  Schools 

UlrAtt&mti 
The  Public  and  Its  School 

Utaljmtrtj 
Standards  in  English 

*Mfc 
An  Experiment  in  the  Fundamentals 


The  Reconstructed  School 
It* 

Newsboy  Service 


The  Teaching  of  Spelling 


SCHOOL   EFFICIENCY  MONOGRAPHS 

THE 

RECONSTRUCTED 
SCHOOL 

BY 

FRANCIS  B.  PEARSON 

SUPERINTENDENT  OF  PUBLIC 
INSTRUCTION  FOR  OHIO 

Author  of 

"THE  EVOLUTION  OF  THE  TEACHER" 

"THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  PROBLEM" 

"REVERIES  OF  A  SCHOOLMASTER" 

AND  "THE  VITALIZED  SCHOOL" 


YONKERS-ON-HUDSON,  NEW  YORK 

WORLD    BOOK   COMPANY 
1919 


WORLD    BOOK    COMPANY 

THE  HOUSE  OP  APPLIED  KNOWLEDGE 
Established,  1905,  by  Caspar  W.  Hodgsoa 

YONKEBS-ON-HUDSON,  NEW  YORK 
2126  PBAIBIE  AVENUE,  CHICAGO 


Publishers  of  the  following  professional 
works:  School  Efficiency  Series,  edited 
by  Paul  H.  Hanus,  complete  in  thirteen 
volumes;  Educational  Survey  Series, 
four  volumes  already  issued  and  others 
projected;  School  Efficiency  Monographs, 
eleven  numbers  now  ready,  others  in 
active  preparation 


Copyright,  1919,  by  World  Book  Company 
All  rights  reserved 


PREFACE 

IN  our  school  processes  there  are  many  constants 
which  have  general  recognition  as  such  by  thought- 
ful people.  On  the  other  hand,  there  are  many  varia- 
bles which  should  be  subjected  to  close  scrutiny  to  the 
end  that  they  may  be  made  to  yield  forth  the  largest 
possible  returns  upon  the  investment  of  time  and  effort. 
These  phases  of  school  procedure  constitute  the  real 
problem  in  the  work  of  reconstruction,  and  the  follow- 
ing pages  represent  an  effort  to  point  the  way  toward 
larger  and  better  results  in  the  realm  of  these  variables. 
In  general,  the  aims  and  purposes  of  the  worker  deter- 
mine the  quality  of  the  work  done.  If,  therefore,  this 
volume  succeeds  in  stimulating  teachers  to  elevate  the 
goals  of  their  endeavors,  it  will  have  accomplished  its 
purpose. 

F.  B.  P. 


>r;. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.     A  PRELIMINARY  SURVEY  OP  THE  TASK  BEFORE 

THE  SCHOOL 1 

II.     THE  PAST  AS  RELATED  TO  THE  PRESENT     .      .  10 

III.  THE  FUTURE  AS  RELATED  TO  THE  PRESENT     .  17 

IV.  INTEGRITY 27 

V.     APPRECIATION 36 

VI.     ASPIRATION 45 

VII.     INITIATIVE 53 

VIII.     IMAGINATION 62 

IX.     REVERENCE 70 

X.     SENSE  OF  RESPONSIBILITY 78 

XI.     LOYALTY 87 

XII.     DEMOCRACY         96 

XIII.     SERENITY .      .  102 

XIV.     LIFE 110 

INDEX  .  .119 


THE 
RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

CHAPTER  ONE 

A  PRELIMINARY  SURVEY  OF  THE  TASK  BEFORE 
THE  SCHOOL 

WHEN  people  come  to  think  alike,  they  tend  to 
act  alike;  unison  in  thinking  begets  unison  in 
action.  It  is  often  said  that  the  man  and  wife  who 
have  spent  years  together  have  grown  to  resemble  each 
other ;  but  the  resemblance  is  probably  in  actions  rather 
than  in  looks ;  the  fact  is  that  they  have  had  common 
goals  of  thinking  throughout  the  many  years  they  have 
lived  together  and  so  have  come  to  act  in  unison.  The 
wise  teacher  often  adjusts  difficult  situations  in  her 
school  by  inducing  the  pupils  to  think  toward  a  com- 
mon goal.  In  their  zeal  for  a  common  enterprise  the 
children  forget  their  differences  and  attain  unison  in 
action  as  the  result  of  their  unison  in  thinking.  The 
school  superintendent  knows  full  well  that  if  he  can 
bring  teachers,  pupils,  and  parents  to  think  toward  a 
common  goal,  he  will  soon  have  unity  of  action.  When 
people  catch  step  mentally,  they  do  the  same  physically, 
and  as  they  move  forward  along  the  paths  of  their 
common  thinking,  their  ways  converge  until,  in  time, 
they  find  themselves  walking  side  by  side  in  amiable 
and  agreeable  converse. 

In  the  larger  world  outside  the  school,  community 
enterprises  help  to  generate  unity  of  thinking  and  con- 
sequent unity  of  action.  The  pastor  finds  it  one  of  his 
larger  tasks  to  establish  a  focus  for  the  thinking  of 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

his  people  in  order  to  induce  concerted  action.  If 
the  enterprise  is  one  of  charity,  the  neighbors  soon  find 
themselves  vying  with  one  another  in  zeal  and  good  will. 
In  the  zest  of  a  common  purpose  they  see  one  another 
with  new  eyes  and  find  delight  in  working  with  people 
whose  society  they  once  avoided.  They  can  now  do 
teamwork,  because  they  are  all  thinking  toward  the 
same  high  and  worthy  goal;  lines  of  demarcation  are 
obliterated  and  spirits  blend  in  a  common  purpose. 
Unity  of  action  becomes  inevitable  as  soon  as  thinking 
becomes  unified. 

Cooperation  follows  close  upon  the  heels  of  com- 
munity thinking.  In  the  presence  of  a  great  calamity, 
rivalries,  differences  of  creed  and  party,  and  long- 
established  animosities  disappear  in  the  zeal  for  benef- 
icent action.  In  the  case  of  fire  or  flood  people  are  at 
one  in  their  actions  because  they  are  thinking  toward 
the  common  goal  of  rescue.  They  act  together  only 
when  they  think  together.  Indeed,  cooperation  is  an 
impossibility  apart  from  unified  thinking.  Herein  lies 
the  efficacy  of  leadership.  It  is  the  province  of  the 
leader  to  induce  unity  of  thinking,  to  animate  with  a 
common  purpose,  knowing  that  united  action  will  cer- 
tainly ensue.  If  he  can  cause  the  thinking  of  people  to 
center  upon  a  focal  point,  he  establishes  his  claim  to 
leadership. 

What  is  true  of  individuals  is  true,  also,  of  na- 
tions. Before  they  can  act  in  concert,  they  must 
think  in  concert,  and,  to  do  this,  they  must  ac- 
quire the  ability  to  think  toward  common  goals* 
If,  to  illustrate,  all  nations  should  come  to  think  toward 
the  goal  of  democracy,  there  would  ensue  a  closer 
sympathy  among  them,  and,  in  time,  modifications  of 
their  forms  of  government  would  come  about  as  a  natu- 

[2] 


A  PRELIMINARY  SURVEY 

ral  result  of  their  unity  of  thinking.  Again,  if  all 
nations  of  the  world  should  set  up  the  quality  of  courage 
as  one  of  the  objectives  of  their  thinking  they  would 
be  drawn  closer  together  in  their  feelings  and  in  their 
conduct.  If  the  parents  and  teachers  of  all  these  na- 
tions should  strive  to  exorcise  fear  in  the  training  of 
children,  this  purpose  would  constitute  a  bond  of  sym- 
pathy among  them  and  they  would  be  encouraged  by 
the  reflection  that  this  high  purpose  was  animating 
parents  and  teachers  the  world  around.  Courage,  of 
course,  is  of  the  spirit  and  typifies  many  spiritual 
qualities  that  characterize  civilization  of  high  grade. 
It  is  quite  conceivable  that  these  qualities  of  the  spirit 
may  become  the  goals  of  thinking  in  all  lands.  Thus 
the  nations  would  be  brought  into  a  relation  of  closer 
harmony.  Had  a  score  of  boys  shared  the  experience 
of  the  lad  who  grew  into  the  likeness  of  the  Great  Stone 
Face,  their  differences  and  disparities  would  have  dis- 
appeared in  the  zeal  of  a  common  purpose  and  they 
would  have  become  a  unified  organization  in  thinking 
toward  the  same  goal. 

We  cannot  hope  to  achieve  the  brotherhood  of  man 
until  the  nations  of  the  world  have  directed  their  think- 
ing toward  the  same  goals.  What  these  goals  shall 
be  must  be  determined  by  competent  leadership  through 
the  process  of  education.  When  we  think  in  unison 
we  are  taken  out  of  ourselves  and  become  merged  in 
the  spirit  of  the  goal  toward  which  we  are  thinking. 
If  we  were  to  agree  upon  courage  as  one  of  the  spiritual 
qualities  that  should  characterize  all  nations  and  or- 
ganize all  educational  forces  for  the  development  of 
this  quality,  we  should  find  the  nations  coming  closer 
to  one  another  with  this  quality  as  a  common  posses- 
sion. Courage  gives  freedom,  and  in  this  freedom  the 

[3] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

nations  would  touch  spiritual  elbows  and  would  thus 
become  spiritual  confederates  and  comrades.  By  gen- 
erating and  developing  this  and  other  spiritual  qualities 
the  nations  would  become  merged  and  unity  of  feeling 
and  actions  would  surely  ensue.  Since  love  is  the 
greatest  thing  in  the  world,  this  quality  may  well  be 
made  the  major  goal  toward  which  the  thinking  of  all 
nations  shall  be  directed.  When  all  peoples  come  to 
think  and  yearn  toward  this  goal,  hatred  and  strife  will 
be  banished  and  peace  and  righteousness  will  be  en- 
throned in  the  hearts  of  men.  When  there  has  been 
developed  in  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  an  ardent  love 
for  the  true,  the  beautiful,  and  the  good,  civilization 
will  step  up  to  a  higher  level  and  we  shall  see  the  dawn 
of  unity. 

We  who  are  indulging  in  dreams  of  the  brotherhood 
of  man  must  enlarge  our  concept  of  society  before  we 
can  hope  to  have  our  dreams  come  true.  It  is  a  far 
cry  from  society  as  a  strictly  American  affair  to 
society  as  a  world  affair.  The  teaching  of  our  schools 
has  had  a  distinct  tendency  to  restrict  our  notion  of 
society  to  that  within  our  own  national  boundaries.  In 
this  we  convict  ourselves  of  provincialism.  Society  is 
far  larger  than  America,  or  China,  or  Russia,  or  all  the 
islands  of  the  sea  in  combination.  It  may  entail  some 
straining  at  the  mental  leash  to  win  this  concept  of 
society,  but  it  must  be  won  as  a  condition  precedent 
to  a  fair  and  just  estimate  of  what  the  function  of 
education  really  is  and  what  it  is  of  which  the  school- 
house  must  be  an  exponent.  Society  must  be  thought 
of  as  including  all  nations,  tribes,  and  tongues.  In 
our  thinking,  the  word  "  society  "  must  suggest  the 
hut  that  nestles  on  the  mountain-side  as  well  as  the 
palace  that  fronts  the  stately  boulevard.  It  must  sug- 

£4] 


A  PRELIMINARY  SURVEY 

gest  the  cape  that  indents  the  sea  as  well  as  the  vast 
plain  that  stretches  out  from  river  to  river.  And  it 
must  suggest  the  toiler  at  his  task,  the  employer  at 
his  desk,  the  man  of  leisure  in  his  home,  the  voyager 
on  the  ocean,  the  soldier  in  the  ranks,  the  child  at  his 
lessons,  and  the  mother  crooning  her  baby  to  sleep. 

We  descant  volubly  upon  the  subjects  of  citizenship 
and  civilization  but,  as  yet,  have  achieved  no  adequate 
definition  of  either  of  the  terms  upon  which  we  expatiate 
so  fluently.  Our  books  teem  with  admonitions  to  train 
for  citizenship  in  order  that  we  may  attain  civilization 
of  better  quality.  But,  in  all  this,  we  imply  American 
citizenship  and  American  civilization,  and  here,  again, 
we  show  forth  our  provincialism.  But  even  in  this 
restricted  field  we  arrive  at  our  hazy  concept  of  a  good 
citizen  by  the  process  of  elimination.  We  aver  that 
a  good  citizen  does  not  do  this  and  does  not  do  that; 
yet  the  teachers  in  our  schools  would  find  it  difficult 
to  describe  a  good  citizen  adequately,  in  positive  terms. 
Our  notions  of  good  citizenship  are  more  or  less  vague 
and  misty  and,  therefore,  our  concept  of  civilization 
is  equally  so. 

Granting,  however,  that  we  may  finally  achieve  satis- 
factory definitions  of  citizenship  and  civilization  as 
applying  to  our  own  country,  it  does  not  follow  that 
the  same  definitions  will  obtain  in  other  lands.  A  good 
citizen  according  to  the  Chinese  conception  may  differ 
widely  from  a  good  citizen  in  the  United  States.  Topog- 
raphy, climate,  associations,  occupations,  traditions, 
and  racial  tendencies  must  all  be  taken  into  account 
in  formulating  a  definition.  Before  we  can  gain  a 
right  concept  of  good  citizenship  as  a  world  affair  we 
must  make  a  thoughtful  study  of  world  conditions.  In 
so  doing,  we  may  have  occasion  to  modify  and  correct 

[5] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

some  of  our  own  preconceived  notions  and  thus  extend 
the  horizon  of  our  education. 

What  society  is  and  should  be  in  the  world  at  large ; 
what  good  citizenship  is  and  ought  to  be  in  the  whole 
world;  and  what  civilization  is,  should  be,  and  may  be 
as  a  world  enterprise  —  these  considerations  are  the 
foundation  stones  upon  which  we  must  build  the  temple 
of  education  now  in  the  process  of  reconstruction. 
Otherwise  the  work  will  be  narrow,  illiberal,  spasmodic, 
and  sporadic.  It  must  be  possible  to  arrive  at  a  com- 
mon denominator  of  the  concepts  of  society,  citizenship, 
and  civilization  as  pertaining  to  all  nations ;  it  must 
be  possible  to  contrive  a  composite  of  all  these  concepts 
to  which  all  nations  will  subscribe ;  and  it  must  be  pos- 
sible to  discover  some  fundamental  principles  that  will 
constitute  a  focal  point  toward  which  the  thinking  of 
all  nations  can  be  directed.  Once  this  focal  point 
is  determined  and  the  thinking  of  the  world  focused 
upon  it,  the  work  of  reconstruction  has  been  inaugu- 
rated. 

But  the  task  is  not  a  simple  one  by  any  means ;  quite 
the  contrary,  for  it  is  world-embracing  in  its  scope. 
However  difficult  the  task,  it  is,  none  the  less,  altogether 
alluring  and  worthy.  It  is  quite  within  the  range  of 
possibilities  for  a  book  to  be  written,  even  a  textbook, 
that  would  serve  a  useful  purpose  and  meet  a  distinct 
need  in  the  schools  of  all  lands.  At  this  point  the 
question  of  languages  obtrudes  itself.  When  people 
think  in  unison  a  common  language  is  reduced  to  the 
plane  of  a  mere  convenience,  not  a  necessity.  The 
buyer  and  the  seller  may  not  speak  the  same  language 
but,  somehow,  they  contrive  to  effect  a  satisfactory 
adjustment  because  their  thinking  is  centered  upon  the 
same  objective.  When  thinking  becomes  cosmopolitan, 

[6] 


A  PRELIMINARY  SURVEY 

conduct  becomes  equally  so.  If  this  be  conceded,  then 
it  is  quite  within  the  range  of  possibilities  to  formulate 
a  course  of  study  for  all  the  schools  of  the  world,  if 
only  we  set  up  as  goals  the  qualities  that  will  make 
for  the  well-being  of  people  in  all  lands.  True,  the 
means  may  differ  in  different  lands,  but,  even  so,  the 
ends  will  remain  constant.  A  thousand  people  may 
set  out  from  their  homes  with  Rome  as  their  destination. 
They  will  use  all  means  of  travel  and  speak  many 
languages  as  they  journey  forward,  but  their  destina- 
tion continues  constant  and  they  will  use  the  best  means 
at  their  command  to  attain  the  common  goal.  Simi- 
larly, if  we  set  up  the  quality  of  loyalty  as  one  of  our 
educational  goals,  the  means  may  differ  but  the  goal 
does  not  change  and,  therefore,  the  nations  will  be 
actuated  by  a  common  purpose  in  their  educational 
endeavors. 

The  one  thing  needful  for  the  execution  of  this  ambi- 
tious program  of  securing  concerted  thinking  is  to 
have  in  our  schools  teachers  who  are  world-minded, 
who  think  in  world  units.  Such  teachers,  and  only 
such,  can  plan  for  world  education  and  world  affairs, 
and  bring  their  plans  to  a  successful  issue.  Some 
teachers  seem  able  to  think  only  of  a  schoolroom; 
others  of  a  building ;  others  of  a  town  or  township ; 
still  others  of  a  state;  some  of  a  country;  and  fewer 
yet  of  the  world  as  a  single  thing.  A  person  can  be 
no  larger  than  his  unit  of  thinking.  One  who  thinks 
in  small  units  convicts  himself  of  provincialism  and 
soon  becomes  intolerant.  Such  a  person  arrogates  to 
himself  superiority  and  inclines  to  feel  somewhat  con- 
temptuous of  people  outside  the  narrow  limits  of  his 
thinking.  If  he  thinks  his  restricted  horizon  bounds 
all  that  is  worth  knowing,  he  will  not  exert  himself  to 

[7] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

climb  to  a  higher  level  in  order  that  he  may  gain  a 
wider  view.  He  is  disdainful  and  intolerant  of  whatever 
lies  beyond  his  horizon,  and  his  attitude,  if  not  his 
words,  repeats  the  question  of  the  culpable  Cain,  "  Am 
I  my  brother's  keeper?  "  He  is  encased  in  an  armor 
that  is  impervious  to  ordinary  appeal.  He  is  satisfied 
with  himself  and  asks  merely  to  be  let  alone.  He  is 
quite  content  to  be  held  fast  bound  in  his  traditional 
moorings  without  any  feeling  of  sympathy  for  the 
world  as  a  whole. 

The  reverse  side  of  the  picture  reveals  the  teacher 
who  is  world-minded.  Such  a  teacher  is  never  less  than 
magnanimous ;  intolerance  has  no  place  in  his  scheme  of 
life ;  he  is  in  sympathy  with  all  nations  in  their  progress 
toward  light  and  right ;  and  he  is  interested  in  all  world 
progress  whether  in  science,  in  art,  in  literature,  in 
economics,  in  industry,  or  in  education.  To  this  end 
he  is  careful  to  inform  himself  as  to  world  movements 
and  notes  with  keen  interest  the  trend  and  development 
of  civilization.  Being  a  world-citizen  himself,  he  strives, 
in  his  school  work,  to  develop  in  his  pupils  the  capacity 
and  the  desire  for  world-citizenship.  With  no  abate- 
ment of  thoroughness  in  the  work  of  his  school,  he  still 
finds  time  to  look  up  from  his  tasks  to  catch  the  view 
beyond  his  own  national  boundaries.  If  the  superin- 
tendent who  is  world-minded  has  the  hearty  cooperation 
of  teachers  who  are  also  world-minded,  together  they 
will  be  able  to  develop  a  plan  of  education  that  is  world- 
wide. To  produce  teachers  of  this  type  may  require 
a  readjustment  and  reconstruction  of  the  work  of  col- 
leges and  training  schools  to  the  end  that  the  teachers 
they  send  forth  may  measure  up  to  the  requirements 
of  this  world-wide  concept  of  education.  But  these 
institutions  can  hardly  hope  to  be  immune  to  the  pro- 
[8] 


A  PRELIMINARY  SURVEY 

cess  of  reconstruction.  They  can  hardly  hope  to  cite 
the  past  as  a  guide  for  the  future,  for  traditional  lines 
are  being  obliterated  and  new  lines  are  being  marked 
out  for  civilization,  including  education  in  its  larger 
and  newer  import. 


[9] 


CHAPTER  TWO 
THE  PAST  AS  RELATED  TO  THE  PRESENT 

IN  a  significant  degree  the  present  is  the  heritage  of 
the  past,  and  any  critical  appraisement  of  the  pres- 
ent must  take  cognizance  of  the  influence  of  the  past. 
That  there  are  weak  places  in  our  present  civilization, 
no  one  will  deny ;  nor  will  it  be  denied  that  the  sources 
of  some  of  these  may  be  found  in  the  past.  We  have 
it  on  good  authority  that  "  the  fathers  have  eaten  sour 
grapes  and  the  children's  teeth  are  set  on  edge."  Had 
the  eating  of  sour  grapes  in  the  past  been  more  re- 
stricted, the  present  generation  would  stand  less  in  need 
of  dentistry.  When  we  take  an  inventory  of  the  people 
of  the  present  who  are  defective  in  body,  in  mind,  or 
in  spirit,  it  seems  obvious  that  the  consumption  of  sour 
grapes,  in  the  past,  must  have  been  quite  extensive.  If 
the  blood  of  the  grandfather  was  tainted,  it  is  probable 
that  the  blood  of  the  grandchild  is  impure. 

The  defects  of  the  present  would  seem  to  constitute 
a  valid  indictment  against  the  educational  agencies 
of  the  past.  These  agencies  are  not  confined  to  the 
school  but  include  law,  medicine,  civics,  sociology,  gov- 
ernment, hygiene,  eugenics,  home  life,  and  physical 
training.  Had  all  these  phases  of  education  done 
their  perfect  work  in  the  past,  the  present  would  be 
in  better  case.  It  seems  a  great  pity  that  it  required 
a  world  war  to  render  us  conscious  of  many  of  the 
defects  of  society.  The  draft  board  made  discoveries 
of  facts  that  seem  to  have  eluded  the  home,  the  school, 
the  family  physician,  and  the  boards  of  health.  Many 
of  these  discoveries  are  most  disquieting  and  reflect 
unfavorably  upon  some  of  the  educational  practices  of 

[10] 


PAST  AS  RELATED  TO  PRESENT 

the  past.  The  many  cases  of  physical  unfitness  and  the 
fewer  cases  of  athletic  hearts  seem  to  have  escaped  the 
attention  of  physical  directors  and  athletic  coaches, 
not  to  mention  parents  and  physicians.  Seeing  that 
one  fourth  of  our  young  men  have  been  pronounced 
physically  unsound,  it  behooves  us  to  turn  our  gaze 
toward  the  past  to  determine,  if  possible,  wherein  our 
educational  processes  have  been  at  fault. 

The  thoughtful  person  who  stands  on  the  street- 
corner  watching  the  promiscuous  throng  pass  by  and 
making  a  careful  appraisement  of  their  physical,  mental, 
and  spiritual  qualities,  will  not  find  the  experience  par- 
ticularly edifying.  He  will  note  many  facts  that  will 
depress  rather  than  encourage  and  inspire.  In  the 
throng  he  will  see  many  men  and  women,  young  and  old, 
who,  as  specimens  of  physical  manhood  and  woman- 
hood, are  far  from  perfect.  He  will  see  many  who  are 
young  in  years  but  who  are  old  in  looks  and  physical 
bearing.  They  creep  or  shuffle  along  as  if  bowed  down 
with  the  weight  of  years,  lacking  the  graces  of  buoyancy 
and  abounding  youth.  They  are  bent,  gnarled, 
shriveled,  faded,  weak,  and  wizened.  Their  faces  reveal 
the  absence  of  the  looks  that  betoken  hope,  courage, 
aspiration,  and  high  purpose.  Their  lineaments  and 
their  gait  show  forth  a  ghastly  forlornness  that  excites 
pity  and  despair.  They  seem  the  veriest  derelicts, 
tossed  to  and  fro  by  the  currents  of  life  without  hope 
of  redemption. 

Their  whole  bearing  indicates  that  they  are  languid, 
morbid,  misanthropic,  and  nerveless.  They  seem  ill- 
nourished  as  well  as  mentally  and  spiritually  starved. 
They  seem  the  victims  of  inherited  or  acquired  weak- 
nesses that  stamp  them  as  belonging  among  the  physi- 
cally unfit.  If  the  farmer  should  discover  among  his 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

animals  as  large  a  percentage  of  unfitness  and  imper- 
fection, he  would  reach  the  conclusion  at  once  that 
something  was  radically  wrong  and  would  immediately 
set  on  foot  well-thought-out  plans  to  rectify  the  situa- 
tion. But,  seeing  that  these  derelicts  are  human  beings 
and  not  farm  stock,  we  bestow  upon  them  a  sneer,  or 
possibly  a  pittance  by  way  of  alms,  and  pass  on  our 
complacent  ways.  Looking  upon  the  imperfect  passers- 
by,  the  observer  is  reminded  of  the  tens  of  thousands 
of  children  who  are  defective  in  mind  and  body  and 
are  hidden  away  from  public  gaze,  a  charge  upon  the 
resources  of  the  state. 

Such  a  setting  forth  of  the  less  agreeable  side  of 
present  conditions  would  seem  out  of  place,  if  not  actu- 
ally impertinent,  were  we  inclined  to  ignore  the  fact 
that  diagnosis  must  precede  treatment.  The  surgeon 
knows  full  well  that  there  will  be  pain,  but  he  is  com- 
forted by  the  reflection  that  restoration  to  health  will 
succeed  the  pain.  We  need  to  look  squarely  at  the 
facts  as  they  are  in  order  to  determine  what  must  be 
done  to  avert  a  repetition  in  the  future.  We  have  seen 
the  sins  of  the  fathers  visited  upon  the  children  to  the 
third  and  fourth  generation  and  still  retained  our  com- 
placency. We  preach  temperance  to  the  young  men 
of  our  day,  but  fail  to  set  forth  the  fact  that  right 
living  on  their  part  will  make  for  the  well-being  of  their 
grandchildren.  We  exhibit  our  thoroughbred  live  stock 
at  our  fairs  and  plume  ourselves  upon  our  ability  to 
produce  stock  of  such  quality.  In  the  case  of  live 
stock  we  know  that  the  present  is  the  product  of  the 
past,  but  seem  less  ready  to  acknowledge  the  same  fact 
as  touching  human  animals.  We  may  know  that  our 
ancestors  planted  thorns  and  yet  we  seem  surprised 
that  we  cannot  gather  a  harvest  of  grapes,  and  we 

[12] 


PAST  AS  RELATED  TO  PRESENT 

would  fain  gather  figs  from  a  planting  of  thistles. 
But  this  may  not  be.  We  harvest  according  to  the 
planting  of  our  ancestors,  and,  with  equal  certainty, 
if  we  eat  sour  grapes  the  teeth  of  our  descendants  will 
surely  be  put  on  edge. 

If  we  are  to  reconstruct  our  educational  processes 
we  must  make  a  critical  survey  of  the  entire  situation 
that  we  may  be  fully  advised  of  the  magnitude  of  the 
problem  to  which  we  are  to  address  ourselves.  We 
may  not  blink  the  facts  but  must  face  them  squarely; 
otherwise  we  shall  not  get  on.  We  may  take  unction 
to  ourselves  for  our  philanthropic  zeal  in  caring  for 
our  unfortunates  in  penal  and  eleemosynary  institu- 
tions, but  that  will  not  suffice.  We  must  frankly  con- 
sider by  what  means  the  number  of  these  unfortunates 
may  be  reduced.  If  we  fail  to  do  this  we  convict  our- 
selves of  cowardice  or  impotence.  We  pile  up  our  mil- 
lions in  buildings  for  the  insane,  the  feeble-minded,  the 
vicious,  the  epileptic,  and  plume  ourselves  upon  our 
munificence.  But  if  all  these  unfortunates  could  be 
redeemed  from  their  thralldom,  and  these  countless  mil- 
lions turned  back  into  the  channels  of  trade,  civilization 
would  take  on  a  new  meaning.  Here  is  one  of  the 
problems  that  calls  aloud  to  education  for  a  solution 
and  will  not  be  denied. 

One  of  the  avowed  purposes  of  education  is  to  lift 
society  to  a  higher  plane  of  thinking  and  acting,  and 
it  is  always  and  altogether  pertinent  to  make  an  inven- 
tory to  discover  if  this  laudable  purpose  is  being  accom- 
plished. Such  an  inventory  can  be  made  only  by  an 
analyst ;  the  work  cannot  be  delegated  either  to  a  pes- 
simist or  to  an  optimist.  In  his  efforts  to  determine 
whether  society  is  advancing  or  receding,  the  analyst 
often  makes  disquieting  discoveries. 

[13] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

It  must  be  admitted  by  the  most  devoted  and  patriotic 
American  that  our  civilization  includes  many  elements 
that  can  truly  be  denominated  frivolous,  superficial, 
artificial,  and  inconsequential.  As  a  people,  we  seek  to 
be  entertained,  but  fail  to  make  a  nice  distinction  be- 
tween entertainment  and  amusement.  War,  it  is  true, 
has  caused  us  to  think  more  soberly  and  feel  more 
deeply ;  but  the  bizarre,  the  gaudy,  and  the  superficial 
still  make  a  strong  appeal  to  us.  We  are  quite  happy 
to  wear  paste  diamonds,  provided  only  that  they 
sparkle.  So  long  have  we  been  substituting  the  fic- 
titious for  the  genuine  that  we  have  contracted  the 
habit  of  loose,  fictitious  thinking.  So  much  does  the 
show  element  appeal  to  us  that  we  incline  to  parade 
even  our  troubles.  Simplicity  and  sincerity,  whether 
in  dress,  in  speech,  or  in  conduct,  have  so  long  been 
foreign  to  our  daily  living  and  thinking  that  we  incline 
to  style  these  qualities  as  old-fogyish. 

A  hundred  or  more  young  men  came  to  a  certain  city 
to  enlist  for  the  war.  As  they  marched  out  through  the 
railway  station  they  rent  the  air  with  whooping  and 
yells  and  other  manifestations  of  boisterous  conduct. 
These  young  fellows  may  have  hearts  of  gold,  but  their 
real  manhood  was  overlaid  with  a  veneer  of  rudeness 
that  could  not  commend  them  to  the  admiration  of 
cultivated  persons.  Inside  the  station  was  another 
group  of  young  men  in  khaki  who  were  quiet,  dignified, 
and  decorous.  The  contrast  between  the  two  groups 
was  most  striking,  and  the  bystanders  were  led  to 
wonder  whether  it  requires  a  world-war  to  teach  our 
young  men  manners  and  whether  the  schools  and  homes 
have  abdicated  in  favor  of  the  cantonment  in  the  teach- 
ing of  deportment.  In  the  schools  and  the  homes  that 
are  to  be  in  our  good  land  we  may  well  hope  that 

CM] 


PAST  AS  RELATED  TO  PRESENT 

decorum  will  be  emphasized  and  magnified ;  for  decorum 
is  evermore  the  fruitage  of  intellectuality  and  genuine 
culture. 

As  a  nation,  we  have  been  prodigal  of  our  resources 
and,  especially,  of  our  time.  We  have  failed  to  regard 
our  leisure  hours  as  a  liability  but,  like  the  lotus  eaters, 
have  dallied  in  the  realm  of  pleasure.  Like  children 
at  play,  we  have  gone  on  our  pleasure-seeking  ways 
all  heedless  of  the  clock,  and,  when  misfortune  came 
and  necessity  arose,  many  of  us  were  unwilling  and  more 
of  us  unable  to  engage  in  the  work  of  production.  In 
some  localities  legislation  was  invoked  to  urge  us  toward 
the  fields  and  gardens.  We  have  shown  ourselves  a 
wasteful  people,  and  in  the  wake  of  our  wastefulness 
have  followed  a  dismal  train  of  disasters,  cold,  hunger, 
and  many  another  form  of  distress.  Deplore  and  re- 
pent of  our  prodigality  as  we  may,  the  effects  abide 
to  remind  us  of  our  decline  from  the  high  plane  of 
industry,  frugality,  and  conservation  of  leisure.  Nor 
can  we  hope  to  avert  a  repetition  of  this  crisis  unless 
education  comes  in  to  guide  our  minds  and  hands 
aright. 

Again,  we  have  been  wont  to  estimate  men  by  what 
they  have  rather  than  by  what  they  are,  and  to  regard 
as  of  value  only  such  things  as  are  quoted  in  the  mar- 
kets. Wall  Street  takes  precedence  over  the  university 
and  to  the  millionaire  we  accord  the  front  seat  even 
in  some  of  our  churches.  We  accept  the  widow's  mite 
but  do  not  inscribe  her  name  upon  the  roll  of  honor. 
We  give  money  prizes  for  work  in  our  schools  and  thus 
strive  to  commercialize  the  things  of  the  mind  and  of 
the  spirit.  We  have  laid  waste  our  forests,  impover- 
ished our  fields,  and  defiled  our  landscapes  to  stimulate 

[15] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

increased  activity  in  our  clearing-houses.  Like  Jason 
of  old,  we  have  wandered  far  in  quest  of  the  golden 
fleece.  We  welcome  the  rainbow,  not  for  its  beauty 
but  for  the  bag  of  gold  at  its  end.  We  seek  to  scale 
the  heights  of  Olympus  by  stairways  of  gold,  fondly 
nursing  the  conceit  that,  once  we  have  scaled  these 
heights,  we  shall  be  equal  to  the  gods. 

To  indulge  in  even  such  a  brief  review  of  some  of  the 
weak  places  and  defections  of  society  is  not  an  agree- 
able task,  but  diagnosis  must  necessarily  precede  the 
application  of  remedies.  If  we  are  to  reconstruct  edu- 
cation in  order  to  effect  a  reconstruction  of  society 
we  must  know  our  problem  in  advance,  that  we  may 
proceed  in  a  rational  way.  Reconstruction  cannot  be 
made  permanently  effective  by  haphazard  methods. 
We  must  visualize  clearly  the  objectives  of  our  en- 
deavors in  order  to  obviate  wrong  methods  and  futility. 
We  must  have  the  whole  matter  laid  bare  before  our 
eyes  or  we  shall  not  get  on  in  the  work  of  reconstruction. 
It  were  more  agreeable  to  dwell  upon  our  achievements, 
and  they  are  many,  but  the  process  of  reconstruction 
has  to  do  with  the  affected  parts.  These  must  be  our 
special  care,  these  the  realm  for  our  kindly  surgery 
and  the  arts  of  healing.  We  need  to  become  acutely 
conscious  that  the  present  will  become  the  past  and  that 
there  will  be  a  new  present  which  will  take  on  the  same 
qualities  that  now  characterize  our  present.  We  need 
to  feel  that  the  future  will  look  back  to  our  present 
and  commend  or  condemn  according  to  the  practices 
of  this  generation.  And  the  only  way  to  make  a  sane 
and  right  future  is  to  create  a  sane  and  right  present. 


[16] 


CHAPTER  THREE 

THE  FUTURE  AS  RELATED  TO  THE  PRESENT 

IN  planning  a  journey  the  one  constant  is  the  desti- 
nation. All  the  other  elements  are  variable,  and, 
therefore,  subordinate.  So,  also,  in  planning  a  course 
of  study.  The  qualities  to  be  developed  through  the 
educational  processes  are  the  constants,  while  the  agen- 
cies by  which  these  qualities  are  to  be  attained  are 
subject  to  change.  The  course  of  study  provides  for 
the  school  activities  for  the  child  for  a  period  of  twelve 
years,  and  it  is  altogether  pertinent  to  inquire  what 
qualities  we  hope  to  develop  by  means  of  these  school 
activities.  To  do  this  effectively  we  must  visualize  the 
pupil  when  he  emerges  from  the  school  period  and  ask 
ourselves  what  qualities  we  hope  to  have  him  possess 
at  the  close  of  this  period.  If  we  decide  upon  such 
qualities  as  imagination,  initiative,  aspiration,  appre- 
ciation, courage,  loyalty,  reverence,  a  sense  of  responsi- 
bility, integrity,  and  serenity,  we  have  discovered  some 
of  the  constants  toward  which  all  the  work  of  the  twelve 
years  must  be  directed.  In  planning  a  course  of  study 
toward  these  constants  we  do  not  restrict  the  scope 
of  the  pupil's  activities ;  quite  the  reverse.  We  thus 
enlarge  the  concept  of  education  both  for  himself  and 
his  teachers  and  emphasize  the  fact  that  education  is 
a  continuous  process  and  may  not  be  marked  by  grades 
or  subjects.  For  the  teachers  we  establish  goals  of 
school  endeavor  and  thus  unify  and  articulate  all  their 
efforts.  We  focus  their  attention  upon  the  pupil  as 
they  would  all  wish  to  see  him  when  he  completes  the 
work  of  the  school. 

If  children  are  asked  why  they  go  to  school,  nine 

[17] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

out  of  ten,  perhaps,  will  reply  that  they  go  to  school  to 
learn  arithmetic,  grammar,  geography,  and  history. 
Asked  what  their  big  purpose  is  in  teaching,  probably 
three  out  of  five  teachers  will  answer  that  they  are 
actuated  by  a  desire  to  cause  their  pupils  to  know 
arithmetic,  grammar,  geography,  and  history.  One  of 
the  other  five  teachers  may  echo  something  out  of  her 
past  accumulations  to  the  effect  that  her  work  is  the 
training  for  citizenship,  and  the  fifth  will  say  quite 
frankly  that  she  is  groping  about,  all  the  while,  search- 
ing for  the  answer  to  that  very  question.  It  would 
be  futile  to  ask  the  children  why  they  desire  knowledge 
of  these  subjects  and  there  might  be  hazard  in  pro- 
pounding the  same  question  to  the  three  teachers. 
They  teach  arithmetic  because  it  is  in  the  course  of 
study;  it  is  in  the  course  of  study  because  the  super- 
intendent put  it  there;  and  the  superintendent  put  it 
there  because  some  other  superintendent  has  it  in  his 
course  of  study. 

Now  arithmetic  may,  in  reality,  be  one  of  the  best 
things  a  child  can  study;  but  the  child  takes  it  be- 
cause the  teacher  prescribes  it,  and  the  teacher  takes 
it  on  faith  because  the  superintendent  takes  it  on 
faith  and  she  cannot  go  counter  to  the  dictum  of  the 
superintendent.  Besides,  it  is  far  easier  to  teach  arith- 
metic than  it  would  be  to  challenge  the  right  of  this 
subject  to  a  place  in  the  course  of  study.  To  most 
people,  including  many  teachers,  arithmetic  is  but  a 
habit  of  thinking.  They  have  been  contracting  this 
habit  through  all  the  years  since  the  beginning  of  their 
school  experience,  until  now  it  seems  as  inevitable  as 
any  other  habitual  affair.  It  is  quite  as  much  a  habit 
of  their  thinking  as  eating,  sleeping,  or  walking.  If 
there  were  no  arithmetic,  they  argue  subconsciously, 
[18] 


FUTURE  AS  RELATED  TO  PRESENT 

there  could  be  no  school ;  for  arithmetic  and  school  are 
synonymous.  Again,  let  it  be  said  that  there  is  no 
thought  here  of  inveighing  against  arithmetic  or  any 
other  subject  of  the  curriculum.  Not  arithmetic  in 
itself,  but  the  arithmetic,  habit  constitutes  the  incubus, 
the  evil  spirit  that  needs  to  be  exorcised. 

This  arithmetic  habit  had  its  origin,  doubtless,  in 
the  traditional  concept  of  knowledge  as  power.  An 
adage  is  not  easily  controverted  or  eradicated.  The 
copy-books  of  the  fathers  proclaimed  boldly  that  knowl- 
edge is  power,  and  the  children  accepted  the  dictum  as 
inviolable.  If  it  were  true  that  knowledge  is  power, 
the  procedure  of  the  schools  and  the  course  of  conduct 
of  the  teachers  during  all  these  years  would  have 
ample  justification.  The  entire  process  would  seem 
simplicity  itself.  So  soon  as  we  acquire  knowledge  we 
should  have  power  —  and  power  is  altogether  desirable. 
The  trouble  is  that  we  have  been  confusing  knowledge 
and  wisdom  in  the  face  of  the  poet's  declaration  that 
"  Knowledge  and  wisdom,  far  from  being  one,  have 
ofttimes  no  connection."  Our  experience  should  have 
taught  us  that  many  people  who  have  much  knowledge 
are  relatively  impotent  for  the  reason  that  they  have 
not  learned  how  to  use  their  knowledge  in  the  way  of 
generating  power.  Gasoline  is  an  inert  substance,  but, 
under  well-understood  conditions,  it  affords  power. 
Water  is  not  power,  but  man  has  learned  how  to  use  it 
in  generating  power.  Knowledge  is  convenient  and 
serviceable,  but  its  greatest  utility  lies  in  the  fact  that 
it  can  be  employed  in  producing  power. 

We  are  prone  to  take  our  judgments  ready-made  and 
have  been  relying  upon  the  copy-books  of  the  fathers 
rather  than  our  own  reasoning  powers.  If  we  had 
only  learned  in  childhood  the  distinction  between  knowl- 

[19] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

edge  and  wisdom;  if  we  had  learned  that  knowledge  is 
not  power  but  merely  potential;  and  if  we  had  learned 
that  knowledge  is  but  the  means  to  an  end  and  not  the 
end  itself,  we  should  have  been  spared  many  a  delusion 
and  our  educational  sky  would  not  now  be  so  overcast 
with  clouds.  We  have  been  proceeding  upon  the  agree- 
able assumption  that  arithmetic,  geography,  and  history 
are  the  goals  of  every  school  endeavor,  the  Ultima 
Thule  of  every  educational  quest.  The  child  studies 
arithmetic,  is  subjected  to  an  examination  that  may 
represent  the  bent  or  caprice  of  the  teacher,  manages 
to  struggle  through  seventy  per  cent  of  the  answers, 
is  promoted  to  the  next  higher  grade,  and,  thereupon, 
starts  on  his  journey  around  another  circle.  And  we 
call  this  education.  These  processes  constitute  the 
mechanics  of  education,  but,  in  and  of  themselves,  they 
are  not  education.  One  of  the  big  problems  of  the 
school  today  is  to  emancipate  both  teachers  and  pupils 
from  the  erroneous  notion  that  they  are. 

The  child  does  not  go  to  school  to  learn  arithmetic 
and  spelling  and  grammar.  The  goal  to  be  attained 
is  far  higher  and  better  than  either  of  these  or  all  com- 
bined. The  study  of  arithmetic  may  prove  a  highly 
profitable  means,  never  the  end  to  be  gained.  This 
statement  will  be  boldly  challenged  by  the  traditional 
teacher,  but  it  is  so  strongly  intrenched  in  logic  and 
sound  pedagogy  that  it  is  impregnable.  The  goal 
might,  possibly,  be  reached  without  the  aid  of  arithme- 
tic, but,  if  a  knowledge  of  this  subject  will  facilitate 
the  process,  then,  of  course,  it  becomes  of  value  and 
should  be  used.  Let  us  assume,  for  the  moment,  that 
the  teacher  decides  to  set  up  thoroughness  as  one  of  the 
large  objectives  of  her  teaching.  While  she  may  be 
able  to  reach  this  goal  sooner  by  means  of  arithmetic, 

[20] 


FUTURE  AS  RELATED  TO  PRESENT 

no  one  will  contend  that  arithmetic  is  indispensable. 
Nor,  indeed,  will  any  one  contend  that  arithmetic  is 
comparable  to  thoroughness  as  a  goal  to  be  attained. 
If  the  teacher's  constant  aim  is  thoroughness,  she  will 
achieve  even  better  results  in  the  arithmetic  and  will 
inculcate  habits  in  her  pupils  that  serve  them  in  good 
stead  throughout  life.  For  the  quality  of  thoroughness 
is  desirable  in  every  activity  of  life,  and  we  do  well  to 
emphasize  every  study  and  every  activity  of  the  school 
that  helps  in  the  development  of  this  quality. 

If  the  superintendent  were  challenged  to  adduce  a 
satisfactory  reason  why  he  has  not  written  thorough- 
ness into  his  course  of  study  he  might  be  hard  put  to 
it  to  justify  the  omission.  He  hopes,  of  course,  that 
the  quality  of  thoroughness  will  issue  somehow  from 
the  study  of  arithmetic  and  science,  but  he  lacks  the 
courage,  apparently,  to  proclaim  this  hope  in  print. 
He  says  that  education  is  a  spiritual  process,  while 
his  course  of  study  proves  that  he  is  striving  to  pro- 
duce mental  acrobats,  relegating  the  spiritual  qualities 
to  the  rank  of  by-products.  His  course  of  study  shows 
conclusively  that  he  thinks  that  knowledge  is  power. 
Once  disillusion  him  on  this  point  and  his  course  of 
study  will  cease  to  be  to  him  the  sacrosanct  affair  it 
has  always  appeared  and  he  will  no  longer  look  upon 
it  as  a  sort  of  sacrilege  to  inject  into  this  course  of 
study  some  elements  that  seem  to  violate  the  sanctities 
of  tradition. 

Advancing  another  brief  step,  we  may  try  to  imagine 
the  superintendent's  suggesting  to  the  teachers  at  the 
opening  of  the  school  year  that  they  devote  the  year  to 
inculcating  in  their  pupils  the  qualities  of  thoroughness, 
self-control,  courage,  and  reverence.  The  faces  of  the 
teachers,  at  such  a  proposal,  would  undoubtedly  afford 

[21] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

opportunity  for  an  interesting  study  and  the  linguistic 
reactions  of  some  of  them  would  be  forcible  to  the  point 
of  picturesqueness.  The  traditional  teachers  would 
demand  to  know  by  what  right  he  presumed  to  impose 
upon  them  such  an  unheard-of  program.  Others  might 
welcome  the  suggestion  as  a  means  of  relief  from  irri- 
tating and  devastating  drudgery.  In  their  quaint  inno- 
cence and  guilelessness  their  souls  would  revel  in  rain- 
bow dreams  of  preachments,  homilies,  and  wise  counsel 
that  would  cause  the  qualities  of  self-control  and  rever- 
ence to  spring  into  being  full-grown  even  as  Minerva 
from  the  head  of  Jove. 

But  their  beatific  visions  would  dissolve  upon  hearing 
the  superintendent  name  certain  teachers  to  act  as  a 
committee  to  determine  and  report  upon  the  studies 
that  would  best  serve  the  purpose  of  generating  rever- 
ence, and  another  committee  to  select  the  studies  that 
would  most  effectively  stimulate  and  develop  self-con- 
trol, and  so  on  through  the  list.  It  is  here  that  we 
find  the  crux  of  the  whole  matter.  Here  the  program 
collides  with  tradition  and  with  stereotyped  habits  of 
thinking.  Many  superintendents  and  teachers  will  con- 
tend that  such  a  problem  is  impossible  of  solution  be- 
cause no  one  has  ever  essayed  such  a  task.  No  one, 
they  argue,  has  ever  determined  what  subjects  will 
effectually  generate  the  specific  qualities  self-control  or 
reverence,  no  one  has  ever  discovered  what  school 
studies  will  function  in  given  spiritual  qualities.  Ac- 
cording to  their  course  of  reasoning  nothing  is  possible 
that  has  not  already  been  done.  However,  there  are 
some  progressive,  dynamic  superintendents  and  teachers 
who  will  welcome  the  opportunity  to  test  their  resource- 
fulness in  seeking  the  solution  of  a  problem  that  is 
both  new  and  big.  To  these  dynamic  ones  we  must  look 
[22] 


FUTURE  AS  RELATED  TO  PRESENT 

for  results  and  when  this  solution  is  evolved,  the  work 
of  reconstruction  will  move  on  apace. 

Reverting,  for  the  moment,  to  the  subject  of  thor- 
oughness :  it  must  be  clear  that  this  quality  is  worthy 
a  place  in  the  course  of  study  because  it  is  worthy 
the  best  efforts  of  the  pupil.  Furthermore,  it  is  worthy 
the  best  efforts  of  the  pupil  because  it  is  an  important 
element  of  civilization.  These  statements  all  need  reit- 
eration and  emphasis  to  the  end  that  they  may  become 
thoroughly  enmeshed  in  the  social  consciousness.  If 
we  can  cause  people  to  think  toward  thoroughness 
rather  than  toward  arithmetic  or  other  school  studies, 
we  shall  win  the  feeling  that  we  are  making  progress. 
Thoroughness  must  be  distinguished,  of  course,  from  a 
smattering  knowledge  of  details  that  have  no  value. 
In  the  right  sense  thoroughness  must  be  interpreted  as 
the  habit  of  mastery.  We  may  well  indulge  the  hope 
that  the  time  will  come  when  parents  will  invoke  the 
aid  of  the  schools  to  assist  their  children  in  acquiring 
this  habit  of  mastery.  When  that  time  comes  the 
schools  will  be  working  toward  larger  and  higher  ob- 
jectives and  education  will  have  become  a  spiritual 
process  in  reality. 

It  will  be  readily  conceded  that  the  habit  of  mastery 
is  a  desirable  quality  in  every  vocation  and  in  every 
avocation.  It  is  a  very  real  asset  on  the  farm,  in  the 
factory,  in  legislative  halls,  in  the  offices  of  lawyer  and 
physician,  in  the  study,  in  the  shop,  and  in  the  home. 
When  mastery  becomes  habitual  with  people  in  all  these 
activities  society  will  thrill  with  the  pulsations  of  new 
life  and  civilization  will  rise  to  a  higher  level.  But 
how  may  the  child  acquire  this  habit  of  mastery?  On 
what  meat  shall  this  our  pupil  feed  that  he  may  become 
master  of  himself,  master  of  all  his  powers,  and  master 

[23] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

of  every  situation  in  which  he  finds  himself?  How 
shall  he  win  that  mastery  that  will  enable  him  to  inter- 
pret every  obstacle  as  a  new  challenge  to  his  powers, 
and  to  translate  temporary  defeat  into  ultimate  vic- 
tory? How  may  he  enter  into  such  complete  sense  of 
mastery  that  he  will  not  quail  in  the  presence  of  diffi- 
culties, that  he  will  never  display  the  white  flag  or  the 
white  feather,  that  he  will  ever  show  forth  the  spirit 
of  Henley's  Invictus,  and  that  nothing  short  of  death 
may  avail  to  absolve  him  from  his  obligations  to  his 
high  standards? 

These  questions  are  referred,  with  all  proper  respect, 
to  the  superintendent,  the  principal,  and  the  teachers, 
whose  province  it  is  to  vouchsafe  satisfactory  answers. 
If  they  tell  us  that  arithmetic  will  be  of  assistance 
in  the  way  of  inculcating  this  habit  of  mastery,  then 
we  shall  hail  arithmetic  with  joyous  acclaim  and  accord 
it  a  place  of  honor  in  the  school  regime, —  but  only 
as  an  auxiliary,  only  as  a  means  to  the  great  end  of 
mastery.  If  they  assure  us  that  science  will  be  equally 
serviceable  in  our  enterprise  of  developing  mastery,  then 
we  shall  give  to  science  an  equally  hearty  welcome. 
However,  we  shall  emphasize  the  right  to  stipulate  that, 
in  the  course  of  study,  the  capitals  shall  be  reserved 
for  the  big  objective  thoroughness,  of  the  habit  of 
mastery,  and  that  the  means  be  given  in  small  letters 
and  as  sub-heads. 

We  may  indulge  in  the  conceit  that  a  flag  floats  at 
the  summit  of  a  lofty  and  more  or  less  rugged  eleva- 
tion. The  youth  who  essays  the  task  of  reaching  that 
flag  will  need  to  reinforce  his  strength  at  supply  sta- 
tions along  the  way.  If  we  style  one  of  these  stations 
arithmetic,  it  will  be  evident,  at  once,  that  this  station 
is  a  subsidiary  element  in  the  enterprise  and  not  the 

[24] 


FUTURE  AS  RELATED  TO  PRESENT 

goal,  for  that  is  the  flag  at  the  top.  These  supply 
stations  are  useful  in  helping  the  youth  to  reach  his 
goal.  We  may  conceive  of  many  of  these  stations, 
such  as  algebra,  or  history,  or  Greek,  or  Chinese. 
Whatever  their  names,  they  are  all  but  means  to  an 
end  and  when  that  end  has  been  attained  the  youth 
can  afford  to  forget  them,  in  large  part,  save  only  in 
gratitude  for  their  help  in  enabling  him  to  win  the 
goal  of  thoroughness. 

The  child  eats  beefsteak  because  it  is  palatable;  the 
mother  prescribes  beefsteak  and  prepares  it  carefully 
with  the  child's  health  as  the  goal  of  her  interests. 
Moreover,  she  has  a  more  vital  interest  in  beefsteak 
because  she  is  thinking  of  health  as  the  goal.  For  an- 
other child,  she  may  prescribe  eggs  and,  for  still  an- 
other, milk  or  oatmeal,  according  to  each  one's  needs. 
Health  is  the  big  goal  and  these  foods  are  the  supply 
stations  along  the  way.  The  physician  must  assist  in 
determining  what  articles  of  food  will  best  serve  the 
purpose  and  to  this  end  he  must  cooperate  with  the 
mother  in  knowing  his  patients.  He  must  have  knowl- 
edge of  foods  and  must  know  how  to  adapt  means  to 
ends,  never  losing  sight  of  the  real  goal.  The  inference 
is  altogether  obvious.  A  superintendent  must  write 
the  prescription  in  the  form  of  a  course  of  study  and  he 
may  not  with  impunity  mistake  a  supply  station  for 
the  goal.  He  must  have  knowledge  of  the  pupils  and 
know  their  individual  needs  and  native  interests.  Hav- 
ing gained  this  knowledge,  he  will  supply  abundant 
electives  in  order  to  assist  each  child  in  the  best  pos- 
sible way  toward  the  goal. 

If,  then,  the  relation  between  major  ends  and  minor 
means  has  been  made  clear,  we  are  ready  for  the  state- 
ment that  these  major  ends  may  be  made  the  common 

[25] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

goals  of  endeavor  in  the  schools  of  all  lands.  Thor- 
oughness is  quite  as  necessary  in  the  rice  fields  of 
China  as  in  the  wheat  fields  of  America,  as  necessary 
in  the  banks  of  Rome  as  in  the  banks  of  New  York, 
quite  as  essential  to  mercantile  transactions  in  Cape 
Town  as  in  Chicago,  and  quite  as  essential  to  home 
life  in  Tokyo  as  in  San  Francisco.  If  these  big  objec- 
tives are  set  up  in  the  schools  of  all  countries  pupils, 
teachers,  and  people  will  come  to  think  in  unison  and 
thus  their  ways  will  converge  and  they  will  come  to  act 
in  unison.  The  same  high  purposes  will  actuate  and 
animate  society  as  a  whole  and  this,  in  turn,  will  make 
for  a  higher  type  of  civilization  and  accelerate  prog- 
ress toward  unity  in  school  procedure. 


[26] 


CHAPTER  FOUR 

INTEGRITY 

INTEGRITY  connotes  many  qualities  that  are  neces- 
sary to  success  in  the  high  art  of  right  and  rational 
living  and  that  are  conspicuous,  therefore,  in  society 
of  high  grade.  It  is  an  inclusive  quality,  and  is,  in 
reality,  a  federation  of  qualities  that  are  esteemed  essen- 
tial to  a  highly  developed  civilization.  The  term,  like 
the  word  from  which  it  is  derived,  integer,  signifies 
completeness,  wholeness,  entirety,  soundness,  rectitude, 
unimpaired  state.  It  implies  no  scarification,  no  blem- 
ish, no  unsoundness,  no  abrasion,  no  disfigurement,  no 
distortion,  no  defect.  In  ordinary  parlance  integrity 
and  honesty  are  regarded  as  synonyms,  but  a  close 
analysis  discovers  honesty  to  be  but  one  of  the  many 
manifestations  of  integrity.  Lincoln  displayed  honesty 
in  returning  the  pennies  by  way  of  rectifying  a  mis- 
take, but  that  act,  honest  as  it  was,  did  not  engage 
all  his  integrity.  This  big  quality  manifested  itself 
at  Gettysburg,  in  the  letter  to  Mrs.  Bixby,  in  visiting 
the  hospitals  to  comfort  and  cheer  the  wounded  soldiers, 
and  in  his  magnanimity  to  those  who  maligned  him. 

In  every  individual  the  inward  quality  determines 
the  outward  conduct  in  all  its  ramifications,  whether 
in  his  speech,  in  his  actions,  or  in  his  attitude  toward 
other  individuals.  It  is  quite  as  true  in  a  pedagogical 
sense  as  in  the  scriptural  sense  that  <;  Men  do  not 
gather  grapes  of  thorns  or  figs  of  thistles,"  and,  also, 
that  "  By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them."  The 
stream  does  not  rise  higher  than  the  source.  What 
a  man  is  doing  and  how  he  is  doing  it  tells  us  what 

[27] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

he  is.  When  we  would  appraise  a  man's  character  we 
take  note  of  his  habits,  his  daily  walk  and  conversation 
in  all  his  relations  to  his  fellows.  If  we  find  a  blemish 
in  his  conduct,  we  arrive  at  the  judgment  that  his 
character  is  not  without  blemish.  In  short,  his  habitual 
acts  and  speech,  in  the  marts  of  trade,  in  the  office, 
in  the  field,  in  the  home,  and  in  the  forum  betoken  the 
presence  or  absence  of  integrity.  It  follows,  then,  as 
a  corollary  that,  if  we  hope  to  have  in  the  stream  of 
life  that  we  call  society  the  elements  that  make  for  a 
high  type  of  civilization  we  must  have  integrity  at  the 
source;  and  with  this  quality  at  the  source  these  ele- 
ments will  inevitably  issue  forth  into  the  life  currents. 
This  being  true,  we  have  clear  warrant  for  the  affirma- 
tion that  integrity  is  a  worthy  goal  toward  which  we 
do  well  to  direct  the  activities  of  the  school. 

Integrity  in  its  large  import  implies  physical  sound- 
ness, mental  soundness,  and  moral  soundness.  In  time 
we  may  come  to  realize  that  physical  soundness  and 
mental  soundness  are  but  sequences  of  moral  sound- 
ness, or,  in  other  words,  that  a  sound  body  and  a  sound 
mind  are  manifestations  of  a  right  spirit.  But,  for 
the  present,  we  may  waive  this  consideration  and  think 
of  the  three  phases  of  integrity  —  physical,  mental 
and  moral.  If,  at  the  age  of  eighteen  years,  the  boy 
or  girl  emerges  from  school  experience  sound  in  body, 
in  mind,  and  in  spirit,  society  will  affirm  that  education 
has  been  effective.  To  develop  young  persons  of  this 
tjrpe  is  a  work  that  is  worthy  the  best  efforts  of  the 
home,  the  school,  the  church  and  society,  nor  can  any 
one  of  these  agencies  shift  or  shirk  responsibility.  The 
school  has  a  large  share  of  this  responsibility,  and  those 
whose  duty  it  is  to  formulate  a  course  of  study  may 
well  ask  themselves  what  procedure  of  the  school  will 

[28] 


INTEGRITY 

best  assist  the  child  to  attain  integrity  by  means  of  the 
school  activities. 

In  our  efforts  to  generate  this  quality  of  integrity, 
or,  indeed,  any  quality,  it  must  be  kept  clearly  in  mind 
every  day  and  every  hour  of  the  day  that  the  children 
with  whom  we  have  to  do  are  not  all  alike.  On  the 
contrary,  they  differ,  and  often  differ  widely,  in  respect 
of  mental  ability,  environment,  inheritances,  and  native 
disposition.  If  they  were  all  alike,  it  would  be  most 
unfortunate,  but  we  could  treat  them  all  alike  in  our 
teaching  and  so  fix  and  perpetuate  their  likeness  to  one 
another.  Some  teachers  have  heard  and  read  a  hundred 
times  that  our  teaching  should  attach  itself  to  the 
native  tendencies  of  the  child;  yet,  in  spite  of  this,  the 
teacher  proceeds  as  if  all  children  were  alike  and  all 
possessed  the  same  native  tendencies.  Herein  lies  a 
part  of  the  tragedy  of  our  traditional,  stereotyped, 
race-track  teaching.  We  assume  that  children  are  all 
alike,  that  they  are  standardized  children,  and  so  we 
prescribe  for  them  a  standardized  diet  and  serve  it  by 
standardized  methods.  If  we  were  producing  bricks 
instead  of  embryo  men  and  women  our  procedure  would 
be  laudable,  for,  in  the  making  of  bricks,  uniformity 
is  a  prime  necessity.  Each  brick  must  be  exactly  like 
every  other  brick,  and,  in  consequence,  we  use  for  each 
one  ingredients  of  the  same  quality  and  in  like  amount, 
and  then  subject  them  all  to  precisely  the  same  treat- 
ment. 

This  procedure  is  well  enough  in  the  case  of  inanimate 
bricks,  but  it  is  far  from  well  enough  in  the  case  of 
animate,  sentient  human  beings.  It  would  be  a  calamity 
to  have  duplicate  human  beings,  and  yet  the  traditional 
school  seems  to  be  doing  its  utmost  to  produce  dupli- 
cates. The  native  tendencies  of  one  boy  impel  him 

[29] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

toward  the  realms  of  nature,  but,  all  heedless  of  this 
big  fact,  we  bind  him  hard  and  fast  to  some  academic 
post  with  traditional  bonds  of  rules  and  regulations 
and  then  strive  to  coerce  him  into  partaking  of  our 
traditional  pabulum.  His  inevitable  rebellion  against 
this  regime  we  style  incorrigibility,  or  stupidity,  and 
then  by  main  strength  and  authority  strive  to  reduce 
him  to  submission  and,  failing  in  this,  we  banish  him 
from  the  school  branded  for  life.  Our  treatment  of 
this  boy  is  due  to  the  fact  that  another  boy  in  the 
school  is  endowed  with  other  native  tendencies  and  the 
teacher  is  striving  to  fashion  both  boys  in  the  same 
mold. 

In  striving  to  inculcate  the  quality  of  integrity, 
wholeness,  soundness,  rectitude  in  Sam  Brown  our  aim 
is  to  develop  this  specific  boy  into  the  best  Sam  Brown 
possible  and  not  to  try  to  make  of  him  another  Harry 
Smith.  We  need  one  best  Sam  Brown  and  one  best 
Harry  Smith  but  not  two  Harry  Smiths.  If  we  try 
to  make  our  Sam  Brown  into  a  second  Harry  Smith, 
society  is  certain  to  be  the  loser  to  the  value  of  Sam 
Brown.  We  want  to  see  Sam  Brown  realize  all  his 
possibilities  to  the  utmost,  for  only  so  will  he  win  integ- 
rity. Better  a  complete  Sam  Brown,  though  only 
half  the  size  of  Harry  Smith,  than  an  incomplete  Sam 
Brown  of  any  size.  If  the  native  tendencies  of  Sam 
Brown  lead  toward  nature,  certain  it  is  that  by  denying 
him  the  stimulus  of  nature  study,  we  shall  restrict  his 
growth  and  render  him  less  than  complete.  If  we 
would  produce  a  complete  Sam  Brown,  if  we  would 
have  him  attain  integrity,  we  must  see  to  it  that  the 
process  of  teaching  engages  all  his  powers  and  does 
not  permit  some  of  these  powers  to  lie  fallow. 

If  Sam  Brown  is  a  nature  boy,  no  amount  of  coercion 

[80] 


INTEGRITY 

can  transform  him  into  a  mathematics  boy.  True  he 
may,  in  time,  gain  proficiency  in  mathematics,  but  only 
if  he  is  led  into  the  field  of  mathematics  through  the 
gateway  of  nature.  He  may  ultimately  achieve  dis- 
tinction as  a  writer,  but  not  unless  his  pen  becomes 
facile  in  depicting  nature.  Unless  his  native  interests 
are  taken  fully  into  account  and  all  his  powers  are  en- 
listed in  the  enterprise  of  education  toward  integrity, 
he  will  never  become  the  Sam  Brown  he  might  have 
been  and  the  teacher  cannot  win  special  comfort  in  the 
reflection  that  she  has  helped  to  produce  a  cripple.  We 
can  better  afford  to  depart  from  the  beaten  path,  and 
even  do  violence  to  the  sanctity  of  the  course  of  study, 
than  to  lose  or  deform  Sam  Brown.  If  his  soul  yearns 
for  green  fields  and  budding  trees,  it  is  cruel  if  not  crim- 
inal to  fail  to  cater  to  this  yearning.  And  only  by  cul- 
tivating and  ministering  to  this  native  disposition  can 
we  hope  to  be  of  service  in  aiding  him  to  achieve 
integrity. 

It  needs  to  be  emphasized  that  integrity  signifies 
one  hundred  per  cent,  nothing  less,  and  that  such  a 
goal  is  quite  worth  working  toward.  On  the  physical 
side,  the  problem  looms  large  before  us.  Since  we  can 
produce  thoroughbred  live  stock  that  scores  one  hun- 
dred per  cent,  we  ought  to  produce  one  hundred  per 
cent  men  and  women.  In  a  great  university,  physical 
examinations  covering  a  period  of  seventeen  years  dis- 
covered one  physically  perfect  young  woman  and  not 
one  physically  perfect  young  man.  Our  live  stock 
records  make  a  better  showing  than  this.  For  years 
we  have  been  quoting  "  a  sound  mind  in  a  sound  body  " 
in  various  languages  but  have  failed  in  a  large  degree 
to  achieve  sound  bodies.  Nor,  indeed,  may  we  hope 
to  win  this  goal  until  we  become  aroused  to  the  im- 

[31] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

portance  of  physical  training  in  its  widest  import  for 
all  young  people  and  not  merely  for  the  already  physi- 
cally fit,  who  constitute  the  ball  teams.  If  the  child 
is  physically  sound  at  the  age  of  six,  he  ought  to  be 
no  less  so  at  the  age  of  eighteen.  If  he  is  not  so,  there 
must  have  been  some  blundering  in  the  course  of  his 
school  life,  either  on  the  part  of  the  school  itself  or 
of  the  home.  When  we  set  up  physical  soundness  as 
the  goal  of  our  endeavors  and  this  ideal  becomes  en- 
meshed in  the  consciousness  of  all  citizens,  then  activi- 
ties toward  this  end  will  inevitably  ensue.  Physical 
training  will  be  made  an  integral  part  of  the  course 
of  study,  medical  and  dental  inspection  will  obtain  both 
in  the  school  and  in  the  home,  insanitary  conditions  will 
no  longer  be  tolerated,  intemperance  in  every  form 
will  disappear,  and  every  child  will  receive  the  same 
careful  nurture  that  we  now  bestow  upon  the  prize  win- 
ners at  our  live-stock  exhibition.  The  thinking  of 
people  will  be  intent  toward  the  one  hundred  per  cent 
standard  and,  in  consequence,  they  will  strive  in  unison 
to  achieve  this  goal. 

The  large  amount  of  incompleteness  that  is  to  be 
found  among  the  products  of  our  schools  may  be  traced, 
in  a  large  measure,  to  our  irrational  and  fictitious 
procedure  in  the  matter  of  grading.  We  must  keep 
records,  of  course,  but  it  will  be  recalled  that  in  the 
parable  of  the  talents  men  were  commended  or  con- 
demned according  to  the  use  they  made  of  the  talents 
they  had  and  were  not  graded  according  to  a  fixed 
standard.  Seeing  that  seventy-five  per  cent  will  win 
him  promotion,  the  boy  devotes  only  so  much  of  himself 
to  the  enterprise  as  will  enable  him  to  attain  the  goal 
and  directs  the  remainder  of  himself  to  adventures 
along  the  line  of  his  native  tendencies.  The  only  way 

[32] 


INTEGRITY 

by  which  we  can  develop  a  complete  Sam  Brown  is  so 
to  arrange  matters  that  the  whole  of  Sam  Brown  is 
enlisted  in  the  work.  Otherwise  we  shall  have  one  part 
of  the  boy  working  in  one  direction  and  another  part 
in  another  direction,  and  that  plan  does  not  make  for 
completeness.  We  must  enlist  the  whole  boy  or  we 
shall  fail  to  develop  a  complete  boy.  If  we  can  find 
some  study  to  which  he  will  devote  himself  unreservedly, 
then  we  may  well  rejoice  and  can  afford  to  let  the  tra- 
ditional subjects  of  the  course  of  study  wait.  We 
are  interested  in  Sam  Brown  just  now  and  he  is  far  more 
important  than  some  man-made  course  of  study.  We 
are  interested,  too,  in  one  hundred  per  cent  of  Sam 
Brown,  and  not  in  three  fourths  of  him.  If  arithmetic 
will  not  enlist  all  of  this  boy  and  nature  will  enlist  all 
of  him,  then  arithmetic  must  be  held  in  abeyance  in  the 
interest  of  the  whole  boy. 

The  seventy-five  per  cent  standard  is  repudiated  by 
the  world  of  affairs  even  though  it  is  emphasized  by  the 
school.  Seventy-five  per  cent  of  accuracy  will  not  do  in 
the  transactions  of  the  bank.  The  accounts  must 
balance  to  the  penny.  The  figures  are  right  or  else 
they  are  wrong.  There  is  no  middle  ground.  In  the 
school  the  boy  solves  three  problems  but  fails  with  the 
fourth.  None  the  less  he  wins  the  goal  of  promotion. 
Not  so  at  the  bank.  He  is  denied  admission  because  of 
his  failure  with  the  fourth  problem.  Seventy-five  will 
not  do  in  joining  the  spans  of  the  great  bridge  across 
the  river.  We  must  have  absolute  accuracy  if  we  would 
avoid  a  wreck  with  its  attendant  horrors.  The  drug- 
gist must  not  fall  below  one  hundred  per  cent  in  com- 
pounding the  prescription  unless  he  would  face  a  charge 
of  criminal  negligence.  The  wireless  operator  must 
transcribe  the  message  with  absolute  accuracy  or  dire 

[33] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

consequences  may  ensue.  The  railway  crew  must  read 
the  order  without  a  mistake  if  they  would  save  life  and 
property  from  disaster. 

But,  in  the  school,  the  teachers  rejoice  and  congrat- 
ulate one  another  when  their  pupils  achieve  a  grade  of 
seventy-five.  It  matters  nothing,  apparently,  that  this 
grade  of  seventy-five  is  a  fictitious  thing  with  no  basis 
in  logic  or  reason,  in  short  a  mere  habit  that  has  no 
justification  save  in  tradition,  and  that,  in  very  truth, 
it  is  a  concession  to  inaccuracy  and  ignorance.  When 
we  promote  the  boy  for  solving  three  out  of  four  prob- 
lems we  virtually  say  to  him  that  the  fourth  problem 
is  negligible  and  he  may  as  well  forget  all  about  it. 
Sometimes  a  teacher  grieves  over  a  grade  of  seventy- 
three,  never  realizing  that  another  teacher  might  have 
given  to  that  same  paper  a  grade  of  eighty-three.  We 
proclaim  education  to  be  a  spiritual  process,  and 
then,  in  some  instances,  employ  mechanics  to  admin- 
ister this  process.  By  what  process  of  reason- 
ing the  superintendent  or  the  teacher  arrives  at  the 
judgment  that  seventy-five  is  good  enough  is  yet  to  be 
explained.  Our  zeal  for  grades  and  credits  indicates 
a  greater  interest  in  the  label  than  in  the  contents  of  the 
package. 

Teaching  is  a  noble  work  if  only  it  is  directed  toward 
worthy  goals.  Nothing  in  the  way  of  human  endeavor 
can  be  more  inspiring  than  the  work  of  striving  to  inte- 
grate boys  and  girls.  The  mere  droning  over  geog- 
raphy, and  history,  and  grammar  is  petty  by  com- 
parison. And  yet  all  these  studies  and  many  others 
may  be  found  essential  factors  in  the  work  and  they 
will  be  learned  with  greater  thoroughness  as  means 
to  a  great  end  than  as  ends  in  themselves.  The  supply 
stations  take  on  a  new  meaning  to  the  boy  who  is 

[34] 


INTEGRITY 

yearning  to  reach  the  flag  at  the  top.  But  it  needs 
to  be  said  here  that  the  traditional  superintendent 
and  teacher  will  greet  this  entire  plan  with  a  supercilious 
smile.  They  will  call  it  visionary,  unpractical,  and 
idealistic  —  then  return  to  their  seventy-five  per  cent 
regime  with  the  utmost  complacency  and  self-satisfac- 
tion. It  is  ever  so  with  the  traditional  teacher.  He 
seeks  to  be  let  alone,  that  he  may  go  on  his  com- 
placent way  without  hindrance.  To  him  every  inno- 
vation is  an  interference,  if  not  a  positive  imperti- 
nence. But,  in  spite  of  the  traditional  teacher^  the 
school  is  destined  to  rise  to  a  higher  level  and  enter 
upon  a  more  rational  procedure.  And  we  must  look 
to  the  dynamic  teacher  to  usher  in  the  renaissance  — 
the  teacher  who  has  the  vitality  and  the  courage  to 
break  away  from  tradition  and  write  integrity  into  the 
course  of  study  as  one  of  the  big  goals  and  think  all 
the  while  toward  integrity,  physical,  mental,  and  moral. 


[35] 


CHAPTER  FIVE 

APPRECIATION 

EDUCATION  may  be  defined  as  the  process  of  rais- 
ing the  level  of  appreciation.  This  definition  will 
stand  the  ultimate  test.  Here  is  bed-rock ;  here  is  the 
foundation  upon  which  we  may  predicate  appreciation 
as  a  goal  in  every  rational  system  of  education.  Appre- 
ciation has  been  defined  as  a  judgment  of  values,  a 
feeling  for  the  essential  worth  of  things,  and,  as  such, 
it  lies  at  the  very  heart  of  real  education.  It  must 
be  so  or  civilization  cannot  be.  Without  appreciation 
there  can  be  no  distinction  between  the  coarse  and  the 
fine,  none  between  the  high  and  the  low,  none  between 
the  beautiful  and  the  ugly,  none  between  the  sublime 
and  the  commonplace,  none  between  zenith  and  nadir. 
Hence,  appreciation  is  inevitable  in  every  course  of 
study,  whether  the  authorities  have  the  courage  to 
proclaim  it  or  not.  Just  why  it  has  not  been  written 
into  the  course  of  study  is  inexplicable,  seeing  that  it 
is  fundamental  in  the  educational  process.  It  is  far 
from  clear  why  the  superintendent  permits  teachers 
and  pupils  to  go  on  their  way  year  after  year  thinking 
that  arithmetic  is  their  final  destination,  or  why  he 
fails  to  take  the  tax-payers  into  his  confidence  and 
explain  to  them  that  appreciation  is  one  of  the  lode- 
stars toward  which  the  schools  are  advancing.  In  his 
heart  he  hopes  that  the  schools  may  achieve  appre- 
ciation, and  it  would  be  the  part  of  frankness  and  fair- 
ness for  him  to  reveal  this  hope  to  his  teachers  and  to 
all  others  concerned. 

It  is  common  knowledge  that  business  affairs  do  not 
require  more  than  ten  pages  of  arithmetic  and  it  would 

[36] 


APPRECIATION 

seem  only  fair  that  the  study  of  the  other  pages  should 
be  justified.  These  other  pages  must  serve  some  useful 
purpose  in  the  thinking  of  those  who  retain  them,  and, 
certainly,  no  harm  would  ensue  from  a  revelation  of  this 
purpose.  If  they  are  studied  as  a  means  to  some  high 
end,  they  will  prove  no  less  important  after  this  fact 
has  been  explained.  We  may  need  more  arithmetic 
than  we  have,  but  it  is  our  due  to  be  informed  why 
we  need  it,  to  what  use  it  is  to  be  put.  These  things 
we  have  a  right  to  know,  and  no  superintendent,  who  is 
charged  with  the  responsibility  of  making  the  course 
of  study,  has  a  right  to  withhold  the  information.  If 
he  does  not  know  the  explanation  of  the  course  of  study 
he  has  devised,  he  ought  to  make  known  that  fact  and 
throw  himself  "  on  the  mercy  of  the  court." 

In  these  days  of  conservation  and  elimination  of  waste 
every  subject  that  seeks  admission  to  the  course  of  study 
should  be  challenged  at  the  door  and  be  made  to  show 
what  useful  purpose  it  is  to  serve.  Nor  should  any 
subject  be  admitted  on  any  specious  pretext.  If  there 
are  subjects  that  are  better  adapted  to  the  high  pur- 
poses of  education  than  the  ones  we  are  now  using, 
then,  by  all  means,  let  us  give  them  a  hearty  welcome. 

Above  all,  we  should  be  careful  not  to  retain  a  sub- 
ject unless  it  has  a  more  valid  passport  than  old  age 
to  justify  its  retention.  If  Chinese  will  help  us  win 
the  goal  of  appreciation  more  effectively  than  Latin, 
then,  by  all  means,  we  should  make  the  substitution. 
But,  in  doing  so,  we  must  exercise  care  not  to  be  carried 
away  by  a  yearning  for  novelty.  Least  of  all  should 
any  subject  be  admitted  to  the  course  of  study  that 
does  not  have  behind  it  something  more  substantial 
and  enduring  than  whim  or  caprice. 

The  subjects  that  avail  in  generating  and  stimulating 

[37] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

the  growth  of  appreciation  are  many  and  of  great 
variety.  Nor  are  they  all  found  in  the  proverbial 
course  of  study  of  the  schools.  When  the  boy  first 
really  sees  an  ear  of  corn  from  another  viewpoint  than 
the  economic,  he  finds  it  eloquent  of  the  marvelous 
adaptations  of  nature.  From  being  a  mere  ear  of 
corn  it  becomes  a  revelation  of  design  and  beauty. 
No  change  has  taken  place  in  the  ear  of  corn,  but  a 
most  important  change  has  been  wrought  in  the  boy. 
Such  a  change  is  so  subtle,  so  delicate,  and  so  intangible 
that  it  cannot  be  measured  in  terms  of  per  cents ;  but 
it  is  no  less  real  for  all  that.  It  is  a  spiritual  process 
and,  therefore,  aptly  illustrates  the  accepted  definition 
of  education.  Though  it  defies  analysis  and  the  rule 
of  thumb,  the  boy  is  conscious  of  it  and  can  say  with 
the  man  who  was  born  blind,  "  One  thing  I  know,  that, 
whereas  I  was  blind,  now  I  see,"  and  no  cabalistic  marks 
in  a  grade-book  can  express  the  value  of  the  change 
indicated  by  that  statement. 

The  sluggard  deems  the  sunrise  an  impertinence  be- 
cause it  disturbs  his  morning  slumber ;  but  such  a 
change  may  be  wrought  in  him  as  to  cause  him  to  stand 
in  reverence  before  the  very  thing  he  once  condemned. 
The  sunrise,  once  an  affront,  is  now  nothing  less  than  a 
miracle,  and  he  stands  in  the  sublime  presence  with 
uncovered  and  lowered  head.  He  is  a  reverent  witness 
of  the  re-birth  of  the  world.  An  hour  ago  there  was 
darkness ;  now  there  is  light.  An  hour  ago  the  world 
was  dead ;  now  it  is  gloriously  alive.  An  hour  ago  there 
was  silence ;  now  there  is  sound  of  such  exquisite  quality 
as  to  ravish  the  soul  with  delight.  As  the  first  beams 
of  sunlight  come  streaming  over  the  hills,  ten  thousand 
birds  join  in  a  mighty  chorus  of  welcome  to  the  new- 
born day  and  the  world  is  flooded  with  song;  and  the 

[38] 


APPRECIATION 

whilom  sluggard  thrills  under  the  spell  of  the  scene  and 
feels  himself  a  part  of  the  world  that  is  vibrant  with 
music.  Can  it  be  denied  that  this  man  is  all  the  better 
citizen  for  his  ability  to  appreciate  the  wonderfulness 
of  a  sunrise? 

But  while  we  extol  and  magnify  the  quality  of  appre- 
ciation, it  is  well  to  note  that  it  cannot  be  superinduced 
by  any  imperial  mandate  nor  does  it  spring  into  being 
at  the  behest  of  didacticism.  It  can  be  caught  but 
not  taught.  Indeed,  it  is  worthy  of  general  observa- 
tion that  the  choice  things  which  young  people  receive 
from  the  schools,  colleges,  and  normal  schools  are 
caught  and  not  taught,  however  much  the  teachers  may 
plume  themselves  upon  their  ability  to  impart  instruc- 
tion. Education,  at  its  best,  is  a  process  of  inocula- 
tion. The  teacher  is  an  important  factor  in  this  pro- 
cess of  generating  situations  that  render  inoculation 
far  more  easy ;  and  we  omit  one  of  the  most  vital  things 
in  education  when  we  refer  only  to  the  teacher's  ability 
to  "  impart  instruction."  The  pupil  gets  certain 
things  in  that  room,  but  the  teacher  does  not  give  them. 
The  teacher's  function  is  to  create  situations  in  which 
the  spirit  of  the  pupil  will  become  inoculated  with  the 
germs  of  truth  in  all  its  aspects.  If  he  could  give 
the  things  that  the  pupils  get,  then  all  would  share  alike 
in  the  distribution.  If  the  teacher  could  impart  in- 
struction, he  certainly  would  not  fail  to  lift  all  his 
pupils  over  the  seventy-five  per  cent  hurdle. 

If  instruction  or  knowledge  could  be  imparted,  educa- 
tion would  no  longer  be  a  spiritual  process  but  rather 
one  of  driving  the  boy  into  a  corner,  imparting  such 
instruction  as  the  teacher  might  decree  and  keeping  on 
until  the  point  of  saturation  was  reached  or  the  supply 
of  instruction  became  exhausted,  when  the  trick  would 

[39] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

be  done.  The  process  would  be  as  simple  as  pouring 
water  from  one  vessel  into  another.  Sometimes  the 
teacher  of  literature  strives  to  engender  appreciation  in 
a  pupil  by  rhapsodizing  over  some  passage.  She  reads 
the  passage  in  a  frenzy  of  simulated  enthusiasm,  with 
a  quaver  in  her  voice  and  moisture  in  her  eyes,  only  to 
find,  at  the  end,  that  her  patient  has  fallen  asleep. 
Appreciation  cannot  be  generated  in  such  fashion. 
The  boy  cannot  light  his  torch  of  appreciation  at  a 
mere  phosphorescent  glow.  There  must  be  heat  behind 
the  light  or  there  can  be  no  ignition.  The  boy  senses 
the  fictitious  at  once  and  cannot  react  to  what  he 
knows  to  be  spurious.  Only  the  genuine  can  win  his 
interest. 

Napoleon  Bonaparte  once  said  that  no  one  can  gaze 
into  the  starry  sky  at  night  for  five  minutes  and  not 
believe  in  the  existence  of  God.  But  to  people  who 
lack  such  appreciation  the  night  sky  is  devoid  of  sig- 
nificance. There  are  teachers  who  never  go  forth  to 
revel  in  the  glories  of  this  star-lit  masterpiece  of  crea- 
tion, because,  forsooth,  they  are  too  busy  grading 
papers  in  literature.  Such  a  teacher  is  not  likely  to 
be  the  cause  of  a  spiritual  ignition  in  her  pupils,  for 
she  herself  lacks  the  divine  fire  of  appreciation.  If  she 
only  possessed  this  quality  no  words  would  be  needed 
to  reveal  its  presence  to  the  boy ;  he  would  know  it  even 
as  the  homing-pigeon  knows  its  course.  When  the 
spirits  of  teacher  and  pupils  become  merged  as  they 
must  become  in  all  true  teaching,  the  boy  will  find  him- 
self in  possession  of  this  spiritual  quality.  He  knows 
that  he  has  it,  the  teacher  knows  that  he  has  it,  and  his 
associates  know  that  he  has  it,  and  one  and  all  know 
that  it  is  well  worth  having. 

It  is  related  of  Keats  that  in  reading  Spenser  he 

[40] 


APPRECIATION 

was  thrown  into  a  paroxysm  of  delight  over  the  ex- 
pression "  sea-shouldering  whales."  The  churl  would 
not  give  a  second  thought  to  the  phrase,  or,  indeed,  a 
first  one;  but  the  man  of  appreciation  finds  in  it  a 
source  of  pleasure.  Arlo  Bates  speaks  with  enthusiasm 
of  the  word  "  highly  "  as  used  in  the  Gettysburg  Speech, 
and  the  teacher's  work  reaches  a  high  point  of  ex- 
cellence when  it  has  given  to  the  pupil  such  a  feeling 
of  appreciation  as  enables  him  to  discover  and  rejoice 
in  such  niceties  of  literary  expression.  It  widens  the 
horizon  of  life  to  him  and  gives  him  a  deeper  and  closer 
sympathy  with  every  form  and  manifestation  of  life. 
Every  phase  of  life  makes  an  appeal  to  him,  from  bird 
on  the  wing  to  rushing  avalanche;  from  the  blade  of 
grass  to  the  boundless  plains;  from  the  prattle  of  the 
child  to  the  word  miracles  of  Shakespeare;  from  the 
stable  of  Bethany  to  the  Mount  of  Transfiguration. 

Geography  lends  itself  admirably  to  the  development 
of  appreciation  if  it  is  well  taught.  Indeed,  to  develop 
appreciation  seems  to  be  the  prime  function  of  geog- 
raphy, and  the  marvel  is  that  it  has  not  been  so  pro- 
claimed. In  this  field  geography  finds  a  clear  justi- 
fication, and  the  superintendent  who  sets  forth  appre- 
ciation as  the  end  and  geography  as  the  means  is  certain 
to  win  the  plaudits  of  many  people  who  have  long  been 
wondering  why  there  is  so  much  geography  in  the  pres- 
ent course  of  study.  Certainly  no  appreciation  can 
develop  from  the  question  and  answer  method,  for  no 
spiritual  quality  can  thrive  under  such  deadening  con- 
ditions. If  the  questions  emanated  from  the  pupils,  the 
situation  would  be  improved,  but  such  is  rarely  the  case. 
Teaching  is,  in  reality,  a  transfusion  of  spirit,  and 
when  this  flow  of  spirit  from  teacher  to  pupil  is  un- 
impeded teaching  is  at  high  tide.  When  the  subject  is 

[41] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

artfully  and  artistically  developed  the  effect  upon  the 
child  is  much  the  same  as  that  of  unrolling  a  great 
and  beautiful  picture.  The  Mississippi  River  can  be 
taught  as  a  great  drama,  from  its  rise  in  Lake  Itasca 
to  its  triumphal  entry  into  the  Gulf.  As  it  takes  its 
way  southward  pine  forests  wave  their  salutes,  then 
wheat  fields,  then  corn  fields,  and,  later,  cotton  fields. 
Then  its  tributaries  may  be  seen  coming  upon  the  stage 
to  help  swell  the  mighty  sweep  of  progress  toward 
the  sea.  When  geography  is  taught  as  a  drama,  appre- 
ciation is  inevitable. 

The  resourceful  teacher  can  find  a  thousand  dramas 
in  the  books  on  geography  if  she  knows  how  to  interpret 
the  pages  of  the  books,  and  with  these  inspiring  dramas 
she  can  lift  her  pupils  to  the  very  pinnacle  of  apprecia- 
tion. Such  tales  are  as  fascinating  as  fairy  stories  and 
have  the  added  charm  of  being  true  to  the  teachings 
of  science.  A  raindrop  seems  a  common  thing,  but  cast 
in  dramatic  form  it  becomes  of  rare  charm.  It  slides 
from  the  roof  of  the  house  and  finds  its  way  into  the 
tiny  rivulet,  then  into  the  brook,  then  into  the  river 
and  thus  finally  reaches  the  sea.  By  the  process  of 
evaporation,  it  is  transformed  into  vapor  and  is  carried 
over  the  land  by  currents  of  air.  As  it  comes  into 
contact  with  colder  currents,  condensation  ensues  and 
then  precipitation,  and  our  raindrop  descends  to  earth 
once  more.  Sinking  into  the  soil  at  the  foot  of  the 
tree  it  is  taken  up  into  the  tree  by  capillary  attraction, 
out  through  the  branches  and  then  into  the  fruit.  Then 
comes  the  sunshine  to  ripen  the  fruit,  and  finally  this 
fruit  is  harvested  and  borne  to  the  market,  whence  it 
reaches  the  home.  Here  it  is  served  at  the  breakfast 
table  and  the  curtain  of  our  drama  goes  down  with  our 
raindrop  as  orange- juice  on  the  lip  of  the  little  girl. 
[42] 


APPRECIATION 

When  we  come  to  realize,  in  our  enlarged  vision,  the 
possibilities  of  geography  in  fostering  the  quality  of 
appreciation,  our  teaching  of  the  subject  will  be  changed 
and  vitalized,  our  textbooks  will  be  written  from  a 
different  angle,  and  our  pupils  will  receive  a  much  larger 
return  upon  their  investment  of  time  and  effort.  The 
study  of  geography  will  be  far  less  like  the  conning  of 
a  gazetteer  or  a  city  directory  and  more  like  a  fas- 
cinating story.  In  our  astronomical  geography  we 
shall  make  many  a  pleasing  excursion  into  the  far 
spaces  and  win  stimulating  glimpses  into  the  infinities. 
In  our  physical  geography  we  shall  read  marvelous 
stories  that  outrival  the  romances  of  Dumas  and  Hugo. 
And  geography  as  a  whole  will  reveal  herself  as  the 
cherishing  mother  of  us  all,  providing  us  with  food,  and 
drink,  and  shelter,  and  raiment,  giving  us  poetry,  and 
song,  and  story,  and  weaving  golden  fancies  for  the 
fabric  of  our  daily  dreams. 

And  when,  at  length,  through  the  agency  of  geog- 
raphy and  the  other  means  at  hand,  our  young  people 
have  achieved  the  endowment  of  appreciation,  life  will 
be  for  them  a  fuller  and  richer  experience  and  they  will 
be  better  fitted  to  play  their  parts  as  intelligent,  cul- 
tivated men  and  women.  The  gateways  will  stand  wide 
open  through  which  they  can  enter  into  the  palace  of 
life  to  revel  in  all  its  beauteous  splendor.  They  will 
receive  a  welcome  into  the  friendship  of  the  worthy  good 
and  great  of  all  ages.  When  they  have  gained  an 
appreciation  of  the  real  meaning  of  literature,  children 
who  have  become  immortal  will  cluster  about  them  and 
nestle  close  in  their  thoughts  and  affections, —  Tiny 
Tim,  Little  Jo,  Little  Nell,  Little  Boy  Blue,  and  Eppie. 
A  visitor  in  Turner's  studio  once  said  to  the  artist, 
"  Really,  Mr.  Turner,  I  can't  see  in  nature  the  colors 

[43] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

you  portray  on  canvas."  Whereupon  the  artist  re- 
plied, "  Don't  you  wish  you  could?  "  When  our  pupils 
gain  the  ability  to  read  and  enjoy  the  message  of  the 
artist  they  will  be  able  to  hold  communion  with  Raphael, 
Michael  Angelo,  Murillo,  Rembrandt,  Rosa  Bonheur, 
Titian,  Corot,  Andrea  del  Sarto,  Correggio,  Fra  An- 
gelico,  and  Ghiberti.  In  the  realms  of  poetry  they  will 
be  able  to  hold  agreeable  converse  with  Shelley,  Keats, 
Southey,  Mrs.  Browning,  Milton,  Victor  Hugo,  Haw- 
thorne, Poe,  and  Shakespeare.  And  when  the  great 
procession  of  artists,  poets,  scientists,  historians, 
dramatists,  statesmen,  and  philanthropists  file  by  to 
greet  their  gaze,  entranced  they  will  be  able  to  applaud. 


[44] 


CHAPTER  SIX 

ASPIRATION 

BROWNING  says,  "  "Tis  not  what  man  Does  which 
exalts  him,  but  what  man  Would  do."  The  boy 
who  has  acquired  the  habit  of  wishing  ardently  in  right 
directions  is  well  on  the  way  toward  becoming  educated. 
For  earnest  wishing  precedes  and  conditions  every 
achievement  that  is  worthy  the  name.  The  man  who 
does  not  wish  does  not  achieve,  and  the  man  who  does 
wish  with  persistency  and  consistency  does  not  fail 
of  achievement.  Had  Columbus  not  wished  with  con- 
suming ardor  to  circumnavigate  the  globe,  he  would 
never  have  encountered  America.  The  Atlantic  cable 
figured  in  the  dreams  and  wishes  of  Cyrus  W.  Field  long 
before  even  the  preliminaries  became  realities.  The 
wish  evermore  precedes  the  blueprint.  It  required 
forty-two  years  for  Ghiberti  to  translate  his  dream 
into  the  reality  that  we  know  as  the  bronze  doors  of 
the  Baptistry.  But  had  there  been  no  dreams  there 
had  been  no  bronze  doors,  and  the  world  of  art  would 
have  been  the  poorer.  Every  tunnel  that  pierces  a 
mountain ;  every  bridge  that  spans  a  river ;  every  build- 
ing whose  turrets  pierce  the  sky ;  every  invention  that 
lifts  a  burden  from  the  shoulders  of  humanity;  every 
reform  that  gilds  the  world  with  the  glow  of  hope, 
was  preceded  by  a  wish  whose  gossamer  strands  were 
woven  in  a  human  brain.  The  Red  Cross  of  today 
is  but  a  dream  of  Henri  Dunant  realized  and  grown 
large. 

The  student  who  scans  the  records  of  historical 
achievements  and  of  the  triumphs  of  art,  music,  science, 
literature,  and  philanthropy  must  realize  that  ardent 

[45] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

wishing  is  the  condition  precedent  to  further  extension 
in  any  of  these  lines,  and  he  must  be  aware,  too,  that 
the  ranks  of  wishers  must  be  recruited  from  among  the 
children  of  our  schools.  1\ie  yearning  to  achieve  is 
the  urge  of  the  divine  part  of  each  one  of  us,  and  it 
naturally  follows  that  whoever  does  not  have  this  yearn- 
ing has  been  reduced  to  the  plane  of  abnormality  in  that 
the  divine  part  of  him  has  been  subordinated,  sub- 
merged, stifled.  Every  fervent  wish  is  a  prayer  that 
emanates  from  this  divine  part  of  us,  and,  in  all  rever- 
ence, it  may  be  said  that  we  help  to  answer  our  own 
prayers.  When  we  wish  ardently  we  work  earnestly  to 
cause  our  dreams  to  come  true.  We  are  told  that 
every  wish  comes  true  if  we  only  wish  hard  enough, 
and  this  statement  finds  abundant  confirmation  in  the 
experiences  of  those  who  have  achieved. 

The  child's  wishes  have  their  origin  and  abode  in  his 
native  interests  and  when  we  have  determined  what  his 
wishes  are,  we  have  in  hand  the  clue  that  will  lead  us 
to  the  inmost  shrine  of  his  native  tendencies.  This, 
as  has  been  so  frequently  said,  is  the  point  of  attack 
for  all  our  teaching,  this  the  particular  point  that  is 
most  sensitive  to  educational  inoculation.  If  we  find 
that  the  boy  is  eager  to  have  a  wireless  outfit  and  is 
working  with  supreme  intensity  to  crystallize  his  wish 
into  tangible  and  workable  form,  quite  heedless  of  clock 
hours,  it  were  unkind  to  the  point  of  cruelty  and  alto- 
gether unpedagogical  to  force  him  away  from  this 
congenial  task  into  some  other  work  that  he  will  do 
only  in  a  heartless  and  perfunctory  way.  If  we  yearn 
to  have  him  study  Latin,  we  shall  do  well  to  carry  the 
wireless  outfit  over  into  the  Latin  field,  for  the  boy  will 
surely  follow  wherever  this  outfit  leads.  But  if  we 
destroy  the  wireless  apparatus,  in  the  hope  that  we 
[46] 


ASPIRATION 

shall  thus  stimulate  his  interest  in  Latin,  the  scar  that 
we  shall  leave  upon  his  spirit  will  rise  in  judgment 
against  us  to  the  end  of  life.  The  Latin  may  be 
desirable  and  necessary  for  the  boy,  but  the  wireless 
comes  first  in  his  wishes  and  we  must  go  to  the  Latin 
by  way  of  the  wireless. 

It  is  the  high  privilege  of  the  teacher  to  make  and 
keep  her  pupils  hungry,  to  stimulate  in  them  an  in- 
cessant ardent  longing  and  yearning.  This  is  her  chief 
function.  If  she  does  this  she  will  have  great  occasion 
to  congratulate  herself  upon  her  own  progress  as  well 
as  theirs.  If  they  are  kept  hungry,  the  sources  of 
supply  will  not  be  able  to  elude  them,  for  children  have 
great  facility  and  resourcefulness  in  the  art  of  forag- 
ing. They  readily  discover  the  lurking  places  of  the 
substantiate  as  well  as  of  the  tid-bits  and  the  sweets. 
They  easily  scent  the  trail  of  the  food  for  which  their 
spiritual  or  bodily  hunger  calls.  The  boy  who  yearns 
for  the  wireless  need  not  be  told  where  he  may  find 
screws,  bolts,  and  hammer.  The  girl  who  yearns  to 
paint  will  somehow  achieve  pigments,  brushes,  palette, 
and  teachers.  Appetite  is  the  principal  thing;  the 
rest  comes  easy.  The  hungry  child  lays  the  whole 
world  under  tribute  and  cheerfully  appropriates  what- 
ever fits  into  his  wishes.  If  his  neighbor  a  mile  distant 
has  a  book  for  which  he  feels  a  craving,  the  two-mile 
walk  in  quest  of  that  book  is  invested  with  supreme 
charm,  no  matter  what  the  weather.  The  apple  may 
be  hanging  on  the  topmost  bough,  but  the  boy  who 
is  apple-hungry  recks  not  of  height  nor  of  the  laby- 
rinth of  hostile  branches.  He  gets  the  apple.  As 
some  one  has  said,  "  The  soul  reaches  out  for  the  cloak 
that  fits  it." 

There  is  nothing  more  pathetic  in  the  whole  realm 

[47] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

of  school  procedure  than  the  frantic  efforts  of  some 
teachers  to  feed  their  pupils  instead  of  striving  to 
create  spiritual  hunger.  They  require  pupils  to 
"  take "  so  many  problems,  con  so  many  words  of 
spelling,  turn  so  many  pages  of  a  book  on  history, 
and  then  have  them  try  to  repeat  in  an  agony  of  effort 
words  from  a  book  that  they  neither  understand  nor 
feel  an  interest  in.  The  teacher  would  feed  them 
whether  they  have  any  craving  for  food  or  not.  Such 
teachers  seem  to  be  immune  to  the  teachings  of  psychol- 
ogy and  pedagogy;  they  continue  to  travel  the  way 
their  grandparents  trod,  spurning  the  practices  of 
Pestalozzi,  Froebel,  and  Francis  Parker.  They  seem 
not  to  know  that  their  pupils  are  predatory  beings 
who  are  quite  capable  of  ransacking  creation  to  get  the 
food  for  which  they  feel  a  craving.  Not  appreciating 
the  nature  of  their  pupils,  they  continue  the  process 
of  feeding  and  stuffing  them  and  thus  fall  into  the  fatal 
blunder  of  mistaking  distention  for  education. 

Ruth  McEnery  Stuart  has  set  out  this  whole  matter 
most  lucidly  and  cogently  in  her  volume  entitled  Sonny. 
In  this  story  the  boy  had  four  teachers  who  took  no 
account  of  his  aspirations  and  natural  tendencies,  but 
insisted  upon  feeding  him  traditional  food  by  traditional 
methods.  To  them  it  mattered  not  that  he  was  unlike 
other  boys.  What  was  suitable  for  them  must  be 
equally  suitable  for  him.  The  story  goes  that  a  cer- 
tain school-master  was  expounding  the  passage  "  Be 
ye  pure  in  heart."  Turning  to  the  boys  he  exclaimed, 
"  Are  you  pure  in  heart?  If  you're  not,  I'll  flog  you 
till  you  are."  So  with  Sonny's  four  teachers.  If 
he  had  no  appetite  for  their  kind  of  food,  they'd  feed 
it  to  him  till  he  had.  But  when  the  appetite  failed 
to  come  as  the  result  of  their  much  feeding,  they 
[48] 


ASPIRATION 

banished  him  to  outer  darkness  with  epithets  expressive 
of  their  disappointment  and  disgust.  They  washed 
their  hands  of  him  and  were  glad  to  be  rid  of  him. 

His  next  teacher,  however,  was  different.  She  sensed 
his  unlikeness  to  other  boys  and  knew,  instinctively, 
that  his  case  demanded  and  deserved  special  treatment. 
She  consulted  his  aspirations  and  appraised  his  native 
tendencies.  In  doing  so,  she  discovered  an  embryo 
naturalist  and  thus  became  aware  of  the  task  to  which 
she  must  address  herself.  So  she  spread  her  nets  for 
all  living  and  creeping  things,  for  the  beasts  of  the 
forest,  the  birds  of  the  air,  for  plants,  and  flowers,  and 
stones, —  in  short,  for  all  the  works  of  nature.  In 
name  she  was  his  teacher,  but  in  reality  she  was  his 
pupil,  and  his  other  four  teachers  might  have  become 
members  of  the  class  with  rich  profit  to  themselves.  In 
his  examination  for  graduation  the  boy  utterly  con- 
founded and  routed  the  members  of  the  examining  com- 
mittee by  the  profundity  and  breadth  of  his  knowledge 
and  they  were  glad  to  check  his  onslaught  upon  the 
ramparts  of  their  ignorance  by  awarding  him  a  diploma. 

It  devolves  upon  the  superintendent  and  teachers, 
therefore,  to  determine  what  studies  already  in  the 
schools  or  what  others  that  may  be  introduced  will 
best  serve  the  purpose  of  fostering  aspiration.  They 
cannot  deny  that  this  quality  is  an  essential  element 
in  the  spiritual  composition  of  every  well-conditioned 
child  as  well  as  of  every  rightly  constituted  man  and 
woman.  For  aspiration  means  life,  and  the  lack  of 
aspiration  means  death.  The  man  who  lacks  aspira- 
tion is  static,  dormant,  lifeless,  inert ;  the  man  who  has 
aspiration  is  dynamic,  forceful,  potent,  regnant.  Aspi- 
ration is  the  animating  power  that  gives  wings  to  the 
forces  of  life.  It  is  the  motive  power  that  induces  the 

[49] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

currents  of  life.  The  man  who  has  aspiration  yearns  to 
climb  to  higher  levels,  to  make  excursions  into  the 
realms  that  lie  beyond  his  present  horizon,  and  to 
traverse  the  region  that  lies  between  what  he  now  is 
and  what  he  may  become.  It  is  the  dove  that  goes  forth 
from  the  ark  to  make  discovery  of  the  new  lands  that 
beckon. 

In  a  former  book  the  author  tried  to  set  forth  the  in- 
fluence of  the  poet  in  generating  aspiration,  and  in  this 
attempt  used  the  following  words :  "  When  he  would 
teach  men  to  aspire  he  writes  Excelsior  and  so  causes 
them  to  know  that  only  he  who  aspires  really  lives. 
They  see  the  groundling,  the  boor,  the  drudge,  and  the 
clown  content  to  dwell  in  the  valley  amid  the  loaves  and 
fishes  of  animal  desires,  while  the  man  who  aspires  is 
struggling  toward  the  heights  whence  he  may  gain  an 
outlook  upon  the  glories  that  are,  know  the  throb  and 
thrill  of  new  life,  and  experience  the  swing  and  sweep 
of  spiritual  impulses.  He  makes  them  to  know  that  the 
man  who  aspires  recks  not  of  cold,  of  storm,  or  of  snow, 
if  only  he  may  reach  the  summit  and  lave  his  soul 
in  the  glory  that  crowns  the  marriage  of  earth  and 
sky.  They  feel  that  the  aspirant  is  but  yielding  obe- 
dience to  the  behests  of  his  better  self  to  scale  the 
heights  where  sublimity  dwells." 

It  were  useless  for  teachers  to  pooh-pooh  this  matter 
as  visionary  and  inconsequential  or  to  disregard  aspira- 
tion as  a  vital  factor  in  the  scheme  of  education.  This 
quality  is  fundamental  and  may  not,  therefore,  be  either 
disregarded  or  slurred.  Fundamental  qualities  must 
engage  the  thoughtful  attention  of  all  true  educators, 
for  these  fundamentals  must  constitute  the  ground- 
work of  every  reform  in  our  school  procedure.  There 
can  be  life  without  arithmetic,  but  there  can  be  no 

[50] 


ASPIRATION 

real  life  without  aspiration.  It  points  to  higher  and 
fairer  levels  of  life  and  impels  its  possessor  onward 
and  upward.  This  needs  to  be  fully  recognized  by 
the  schools  that  would  perform  their  high  functions 
worthily,  and  no  teacher  can  with  impunity  evade  this 
responsibility.  Somehow,  we  must  contrive  to  instill 
the  quality  of  aspiration  into  the  lives  of  our  pupils 
if  we  would  acquit  ourselves  of  this  obligation.  To 
do  less  than  this  is  to  convict  ourselves  of  stolidity 
or  impotence. 

Chief  among  the  agencies  that  may  be  made  to  con- 
tribute generously  in  this  high  enterprise  is  history, 
or  more  specifically,  biography,  which  is  quintessential 
history.  A  boy  proceeds  upon  the  assumption  that 
what  has  been  done  may  be  done  again  and,  possibly, 
done  even  better.  When  he  reads  of  the  beneficent 
achievements  of  Edison  he  becomes  fired  with  zeal  to 
equal  if  not  surpass  these  achievements.  Obstacles  do 
not  daunt  the  boy  who  aspires.  Everything  becomes 
possible  in  the  light  and  heat  of  his  zeal.  Since  Edison 
did  it,  he  can  do  it,  and  no  amount  of  discouragement 
can  dissuade  him  from  his  lofty  purpose.  He  sets 
his  goal  high  and  marches  toward  it  with  dauntless 
courage.  If  a  wireless  outfit  is  his  goal,  bells  may  ring 
and  clocks  may  strike,  but  he  hears  or  heeds  them  not. 

To  be  effective  the  teaching  of  history  must  be  far 
more  than  the  mere  droning  over  the  pages  of  a  book. 
It  must  be  so  vital  that  it  will  set  the  currents  of  life 
in  motion.  In  his  illuminating  report  upon  the  schools 
of  Denmark,  Mr.  Edwin  G.  Cooley  quotes  Bogtrup  on 
the  teaching  of  history  as  follows :  "  History  does  not 
mean  books  and  maps ;  it  is  not  to  be  divided  into  lessons 
and  gone  through  with  a  pointer  like  any  other  paltry 
school  subject.  History  lies  before  our  eyes  like  a 

[51] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

mighty  and  turbulent  ocean,  into  which  the  ages  run 
like  rivers.  Its  rushing  waves  bring  to  our  listening 
ears  the  sound  of  a  thousand  voices  from  the  olden 
time.  With  our  pupils  we  stand  on  the  edge  of  a  cliff 
and  gaze  over  this  great  sea;  we  strive  to  open  their 
eyes  to  its  power  and  beauty;  we  point  out  the  laws 
of  the  rise  and  fall  of  the  waves,  and  of  the  strong 
under-currents.  We  strive  by  poetic  speech  to  open 
their  ears  to  the  voices  of  the  sea  which  in  our  very 
blood  run  through  the  veins  from  generation  to  genera- 
tion, and,  humming  and  singing,  echo  in  our  innermost 
being." 

Such  teaching  of  history  as  is  here  portrayed  will 
never  fall  upon  dull  ears  or  unresponsive  spirits.  It 
will  thrill  the  youth  with  a  consuming  desire  to  be  up 
and  doing.  He  will  ignite  at  touch  of  the  living  fire. 
His  soul  will  become  incandescent  and  the  glow  will 
warm  him  into  noble  action.  He  yearns  to  emulate 
the  triumphs  of  those  who  have  preceded  him  on  the 
stage  of  endeavor.  If  he  reads  "  The  Message  to  Gar- 
cia "  he  feels  himself  pulsating  with  the  zeal  to  do  deeds 
of  valor  and  heroism.  Whether  the  records  deal  with 
Clara  Barton,  Nathan  Hale,  Frances  Willard,  Mrs. 
Stowe,  Columbus,  Lincoln,  William  the  Silent,  Erasmus, 
or  Raphael,  if  these  people  are  present  as  vital  entities 
the  young  people  will  thrill  under  the  spell  of  the  en- 
trancing stories.  Then  will  history  and  biography 
come  into  their  own  as  means  to  a  great  end,  and  then 
will  aspiration  take  its  rightful  place  as  one  of  the 
large  goals  in  the  scheme  of  education.  As  Browning 
says,  "  A  man's  reach  should  exceed  his  grasp,  or 
what's  a  heaven  for?  "  and  again: 

What  I  aspired  to  be 
And  was  not,  comforts  me. 

[52] 


CHAPTER  SEVEN 
INITIATIVE 

NO  one  who  gives  the  matter  thoughtful  considera- 
tion will  ever  deprecate  or  disparage  the  posses- 
sion of  the  virtue  of  obedience;  but,  on  the  other  hand, 
no  such  thoughtful  person  will  attempt  to  deny  that 
this  virtue,  desirable  as  it  is,  may  be  fostered  and 
emphasized  to  such  a  degree  that  its  possessor  will  be- 
come a  mere  automaton.  And  this  is  bad ;  indeed,  very 
bad.  We  extol  obedience,  to  be  sure,  but  not  the  sort 
of  blind,  unthinking  obedience  that  will  reduce  its  pos- 
sessor to  the  status  of  the  mechanical  toy  which  needs 
only  to  be  wound  up  and  set  going.  The  factory 
superintendent  is  glad  to  have  men  about  him  who  are 
able  to  work  efficiently  from  blueprints ;  but  he  is  glad, 
also,  to  have  men  about  him  who  can  dispense  with 
blueprints  altogether  or  can  make  their  own.  The 
difference  between  these  two  types  of  operatives  spells 
the  difference  between  leadership  and  mere  blind,  auto- 
matic following.  Were  all  the  workers  in  the  factory 
mere  followers,  the  work  would  be  stereotyped  and  the 
factory  would  be  unable  to  compete  with  the  other 
factory,  where  initiative  and  leadership  obtain. 

One  psychologist  avers  that  ninety  per  cent  of  our 
education  comes  through  imitation ;  but,  even  so,  it  is 
quite  pertinent  to  inquire  into  the  remaining  ten  per 
cent.  Conceding  that  we  adopt  our  styles  of  wearing 
apparel  at  the  behest  of  society;  that  we  fashion  and 
furnish  our  homes  in  conformity  to  prevailing  customs ; 
that  we  permit  press  and  pulpit  to  formulate  for  us 
our  opinions  and  beliefs ;  in  short,  that  we  are  imitators 
up  to  the  full  ninety  per  cent  limit,  it  still  must  seem 

[53] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

obvious  to  the  close  observer  that  the  remaining  ten 
per  cent  has  afforded  us  a  vast  number  and  variety  of 
improvements  that  tend  to  make  life  more  agreeable. 
This  ten  per  cent  has  substituted  the  modern  harvester 
for  the  sickle  and  cradle  with  which  our  ancestors 
harvested  their  grain ;  it  has  brought  us  the  tractor 
for  the  turning  of  the  soil  in  place  of  the  primitive 
plow ;  it  has  enabled  us  to  use  the  auto-truck  in  market- 
ing our  products  instead  of  the  ox-teams  of  the  olden 
times ;  it  has  brought  us  the  telegraph  and  telephone 
with  which  to  send  the  message  of  our  desires  across 
far  spaces ;  and  it  has  supplied  us  with  conveniences 
and  luxuries  that  our  grandparents  could  not  imagine 
even  in  their  wildest  fancies. 

A  close  scrutiny  will  convince  even  the  most  incredu- 
lous that  many  teachers  and  schools  are  doing  their 
utmost,  in  actual  practice  if  not  in  theory,  to  eliminate 
the  ten  per  cent  margin  and  render  their  pupils  imita- 
tors to  the  full  one  hundred  per  cent  limit.  We  force 
the  children  to  travel  our  standard  pedagogical  tracks 
and  strive  to  fashion  and  fix  them  in  our  standard  peda- 
gogical molds.  And  woe  betide  the  pupil  who  jumps 
the  track  or  shows  an  inclination  to  travel  a  route  not 
of  the  teacher's  choosing!  He  is  haled  into  court 
forthwith  and  enjoined  to  render  a  strict  accounting 
for  his  misdoing;  for  anything  that  is  either  less  or 
more  than  a  strict  conformity  to  type  is  accounted  a 
defection.  We  demand  absolute  obedience  to  the  orac- 
ular edicts  of  the  school  as  a  passport  to  favor.  Con- 
formity spells  salvation  for  the  child  and,  in  the  inter- 
ests of  peace,  he  yields,  albeit  grudgingly,  to  the  in- 
evitable. 

In  world  affairs  we  deem  initiative  a  real  asset,  but 
one  of  the  saddest  of  our  mistakes  in  ordering  school 

[54] 


INITIATIVE 

activities  consists  in  our  fervid  attempts  to  prove  that 
the  school  is  detached  from  life  and  something  quite 
apart  from  the  world.  We  would  have  our  pupils  be- 
lieve that,  when  they  are  in  school,  they  are  neither 
in  nor  of  the  world.  At  our  commencement  exercises 
we  tell  the  graduates  that  they  are  now  passing  across 
a  threshold  out  into  the  world ;  that  they  are  now  enter- 
ing into  the  realms  of  real  life ;  and  that  on  the  morrow 
they  will  experience  the  initial  impact  of  practical  life. 
These  time-worn  expressions  pass  current,  at  face 
value,  among  enthusiastic  relatives  and  friends,  but 
there  are  those  in  the  audience  who  know  them  to  be 
the  veriest  cant,  with  no  basis  either  in  logic  or  in 
common  sense.  It  is  nothing  short  of  foolishness  to 
assert  that  a  young  person  must  attain  the  age  of 
eighteen  years  before  he  enters  real  life.  The  child 
knows  that  his  home  is  a  part  of  the  world  and  an 
element  in  life,  that  the  grocery  is  another  part,  the 
post-office  still  another  part,  and  so  on  through  an 
almost  endless  list.  Equally  well  does  he  know  that 
the  school  is  a  part  of  life,  because  it  enters  into  his 
daily  experiences  the  same  as  the  grocery  and  the 
post-office.  Full  well  does  he  know  that  he  is  not  out- 
side of  life  when  he  is  in  school,  and  no  amount  of 
sophistry  can  convince  him  otherwise.  If  the  school 
is  not  an  integral  part  of  the  world  and  of  life,  so  much 
the  worse  for  the  school  and,  by  the  same  token,  so 
much  the  worse  for  the  teacher.  Either  the  school  is 
a  part  of  the  world  or  else  it  is  neither  a  real  nor  a 
worthy  school. 

The  hours  which  the  child  spends  in  school  are  quite 
as  much  a  part  of  his  life  as  any  other  portion  of  the 
day,  no  matter  what  activities  the  school  provides, 
and  we  do  violence  to  the  facts  when  we  assume  or  argue 

[55] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

otherwise.  Here  is  a  place  for  emphasis.  Here  is  the 
rock  on  which  many  a  pedagogical  bark  has  suffered 
shipwreck.  We  become  so  engrossed  in  the  mechanics 
of  our  task  —  grades,  tests,  examinations,  and  promo- 
tions —  that  we  lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  we  are  deal- 
ing with  real  life  in  a  situation  that  is  a  part  of  the 
real  world.  The  best  preparation  for  life  is  to  prac- 
tice life  aright,  and  this  is  the  real  function  of  the 
school.  If  teachers  only  could  or  would  give  full  recog- 
nition to  this  simple,  open  truth,  there  would  soon  ensue 
a  wide  departure  from  some  of  our  present  mechanized 
methods.  But  so  long  as  we  cling  to  the  traditional 
notion  that  school  is  detached  from  real  life,  so  long 
shall  we  continue  to  pursue  our  merry-go-round 
methods.  If  we  could  fully  realize  that  we  are  teaching 
life  by  the  laboratory  method,  many  a  vague  and 
misty  phase  of  our  work  would  soon  become  clarified. 

Seeing,  then,  that  the  school  is  a  cross-section  of  life, 
it  follows,  naturally,  that  it  embodies  the  identical 
elements  that  constitute  life  as  a  whole.  We  all  know, 
by  experience,  that  life  abounds  in  vicissitudes,  dis- 
couragements, trials,  and  obstacles,  and  the  school, 
being  a  part  of  real  life,  must  furnish  forth  the  same 
elements  even  if  of  less  magnitude.  There  are  obstacles, 
to  be  sure,  and  there  should  be.  Abraham  Lincoln 
once  said,  "  When  you  can't  remove  an  obstacle,  plow 
around  it."  But  teachers  are  prone  to  remove  the 
obstacles  from  the  pathway  of  their  pupils  when  they 
should  be  training  them  to  surmount  these  obstacles 
or,  failing  that  for  the  time  being,  to  plow  around 
them.  It  is  far  easier,  however,  for  the  teacher  to 
solve  the  problem  for  the  boy  than  to  stimulate  him  to 
solve  it  independently.  If  we  would  train  the  boy 
to  leap  over  hurdles,  we  must  supply  the  hurdles  and 

[56] 


INITIATIVE 

not  remove  them  from  his  path.  Still  further,  we 
must  elevate  the  hurdles,  by  easy  gradations,  if  we 
would  increase  the  boy's  powers  and  prowess. 

Professor  Edgar  James  Swift  says,  "  Man  expends 
just  energy  enough  to  satisfy  the  demands  of  the  situa- 
tion in  which  he  is  placed."  This  statement  is  big 
with  meaning  for  all  who  have  a  true  conception  of 
pedagogy  and  of  life.  In  this  sentence  we  see  the 
finger-board  that  points  toward  high  achievements  in 
teaching.  If  the  hurdles  are  too  low,  the  boy  becomes 
flaccid,  flabby,  sluggish,  and  lethargic.  The  hurdles 
should  be  just  high  enough  to  engage  his  full  strength, 
physical,  mental,  and  moral.  They  should  ever  be  a 
challenge  to  his  best  efforts.  But  they  should  never 
be  so  high  that  they  will  invite  discouragement,  disaster, 
and  failure.  The  teacher  should  guard  against  elevat- 
ing hurdles  as  an  exhibition  of  her  own  reach.  The 
gymnasium  is  not  a  stage  for  exhibitions.  On  the 
contrary,  it  is  a  place  for  graduated,  cumulative  train- 
ing. 

Our  inclination  is  to  make  life  easy  and  agreeable 
to  our  pupils  rather  than  real.  To  this  end  we  help 
them  over  the  difficulties,  answer  questions  which  they 
do  not  ask,  and  supply  them  with  crutches  when  we 
should  be  training  them  to  walk  without  artificial  aids. 
The  passing  mark  rather  than  real  training  seems  to 
be  made  the  goal  of  our  endeavors  even  if  we  enfeeble 
the  child  by  so  doing.  We  seem  to  measure  our  success 
by  the  number  of  promotions  and  not  by  the  quality 
of  the  training  we  give.  We  seem  to  be  content  to 
produce  weaklings  if  only  we  can  push  them  through 
the  gateway  of  promotion.  It  matters  not  that  they 
are  unable  to  find  their  way  alone  through  the  mazes 
of  life ;  let  them  acquire  that  ability  later,  after  they 

[57]  " 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

have  passed  beyond  our  control.  Again  quoting  from 
Professor  Swift,  "  Following  a  leader,  even  though  that 
leader  be  the  teacher,  tends  to  take  from  children  what- 
ever latent  ability  for  initiative  they  may  have." 

There  is  a  story  of  an  indulgent  mother  who  was 
quite  eager  that  her  boy  should  have  a  pleasant  birth- 
day and  so  asked  him  what  he  would  most  like  to  do. 
The  answer  came  in  a  flash :  "  Thank  you,  Mother, 
I  should  most  like  just  to  be  let  alone."  This  answer 
leads  us  at  once  to  the  inner  sanctuary  of  childhood. 
Children  yearn  to  be  let  alone  and  must  grow  restive 
under  the  incessant  attentions  of  their  elders.  In 
school  there  is  ever  such  a  continuous  fusillade  of  ques- 
tions and  answers,  assigning  of  lessons,  recitations, 
corrections,  explanations,  and  promulgations,  rules  and 
restrictions  that  the  children  have  no  time  for  growing 
inside.  They  are  not  left  to  their  own  devices  but  are 
pulled  and  pushed  about,  and  managed,  and  coddled  or 
coerced  all  day  long,  so  that  there  is  neither  time  nor 
scope  for  the  exercise  and  development  of  initiative. 
The  teacher,  at  times,  seems  to  think  of  the  school 
as  a  mammoth  syringe  with  which  she  is  called  upon 
to  pump  information  into  her  bored  but  passive  pupils. 

Silence  is  the  element  in  which  initiative  thrives,  but 
our  school  programs  rarely  provide  any  periods  of 
silence.  They  assume  that  to  be  effective  a  school  must 
be  a  place  of  bustle,  and  hurry,  and  excitement,  not 
to  mention  entertainment.  Sometimes  the  child  is  in- 
tent upon  explorations  among  the  infinities  when  the 
teacher  summons  him  back  to  earth  to  cross  a  t  or  dot 
an  «.  The  teacher  who  would  implant  a  thought-germ 
in  the  minds  of  her  pupils  and  then  allow  fifteen  min- 
utes of  silence  for  the  process  of  germination,  should 
be  ranked  as  an  excellent  teacher.  When  the  child 
[58] 


INITIATIVE 

is  thinking  out  things  for  himself  the  process  is  favor- 
able to  initiative ;  but  when  the  teacher  directs  his 
every  movement,  thought,  and  impulse,  she  is  repressing 
the  very  quality  that  makes  for  initiative  and  ultimate 
leadership.  When  the  boy  would  do  some  things  on 
his  own,  the  teacher  is  striving  to  force  him  to  travel 
in  her  groove. 

Henderson  well  says :  "  We  do  not  invariably  cul- 
tivate initiative  by  letting  children  alone,  but  in  nine 
cases  out  of  ten  it  is  a  highly  effective  method.  In 
our  honest  desire  for  their  betterment,  the  temptation 
is  always  to  jump  in  and  to  do  for  them,  when  we 
would  much  better  keep  hands  off,  and  allow  them, 
under  favorable  conditions,  to  do  for  themselves.  They 
may  do  something  which,  from  an  objective  point  of 
view,  is  much  less  excellent  than  our  own  well-con- 
sidered plan.  But  education  is  not  an  objective  process. 
It  is  subjective  and  was  wrapped  up  in  the  funny 
blundering  little  enterprise  of  the  child,  rather  than  in 
our  own  intrusive  one."  The  crude  product  of  the 
boy's  work  in  manual  training  is  far  better  for  him 
and  for  the  whole  process  of  education  than  the  finished 
product  of  the  teacher's  skill  which  sometimes  passes 
for  the  boy's  own  work.  Some  manual  training  teachers 
have  many  a  sin  charged  to  their  account  in  this  line 
that  stands  in  dire  need  of  forgiveness. 

There  are  many  worthy  enterprises  through  which 
initiative  may  be  fostered.  Prominent  among  these  are 
some  of  the  home  and  school  projects  that  are  in  vogue. 
These  projects,  when  wisely  selected  with  reference 
to  the  child's  powers  and  inclination,  give  scope  for  the 
exercise  of  ingenuity,  resourcefulness,  perseverance, 
and  unhampered  thinking  and  acting.  Besides,  some 
of  the  by-products  are  of  value,  notably  self-reliance 

[59] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

and  self-respect.  A  child  yearns  to  play  a  thinking 
part  in  the  drama  of  life  and  not  the  part  of  a  marion- 
ette or  jumping-jack  that  moves  only  when  some  one 
pulls  the  string.  He  yearns  to  be  an  entity  and  not  a 
mere  echo.  Paternalism,  in  our  school  work,  does  not 
make  for  self-reliance,  and,  therefore,  is  to  be  deplored. 
There  is  small  hope  for  the  child  without  initiative, 
who  is  helped  over  every  slightest  obstacle,  and  who 
acquires  the  habit  of  calling  for  help  whenever  he  en- 
counters a  difficulty. 

Here  we  have  ample  scope  for  the  problem  element 
in  teaching  and  we  are  recreant  to  our  opportunities 
and  do  violence  to  child-nature  if  we  fail  to  utilize  this 
method.  We  are  much  given  to  the  analytic  in  our 
teaching,  whereas  the  pupil  enjoys  the  synthetic.  He 
yearns  to  make  things.  Constructing  problems  in 
arithmetic,  or  history,  or  physics  makes  a  special  appeal 
to  him  and  we  do  violence  to  his  natural  bent  if  we  fail 
to  accord  him  the  opportunity.  We  can  send  him  in 
quest  of  dramatic  situations  in  the  poem,  or  derivatives 
in  his  reading  lesson,  set  him  thinking  of  the  construc- 
tion of  farm  buildings  or  machinery,  or  lead  him  to 
seek  the  causes  that  led  up  to  events  in  history.  In 
brief,  we  can  appeal  to  his  curiosity  and  intelligence 
and  so  engage  the  intensest  interest  of  the  whole  boy. 

A  school  girl  assumed  the  task  of  looking  after  all 
the  repairs  in  the  way  of  plumbing  in  the  home  and, 
certainly,  was  none  the  worse  for  the  experience.  She 
is  now  a  dentist  and  has  achieved  distinction  both  at 
home  and  abroad  in  her  chosen  profession.  She  gained 
the  habit  of  meeting  difficult  situations  without  abate- 
ment of  dignity  or  refinement.  The  school,  at  its 
best,  is  a  favorable  situation  for  self-education  and  the 
wise  teacher  will  see  to  it  that  it  does  not  decline  from 

[60] 


INITIATIVE 

this  high  plane.  Only  so  will  its  products  be  young 
men  and  women  who  need  no  leading  strings,  who  can 
find  their  way  about  through  the  labyrinth  of  life  and 
not  be  abashed.  They  are  the  ones  to  whom  we  must 
look  for  leadership  in  all  the  enterprises  of  life,  for 
they  have  learned  how  to  initiate  work  and  carry  it 
through  to  success.  That  school  will  win  distinction 
which  makes  initiative  one  of  its  big  goals  and  is  dili- 
gent in  causing  the  activities  of  the  pupils  to  reach 
upward  toward  the  achievement  of  this  end. 

We  may  well  conclude  with  a  quotation  from  Dr. 
Henry  van  Dyke :  "  The  mere  pursuit  of  knowledge 
is  not  necessarily  an  emancipating  thing.  There  is  a 
kind  of  reading  which  is  as  passive  as  massage.  There 
is  a  kind  of  study  which  fattens  the  mind  for  examina- 
tion like  a  prize  pig  for  a  county  fair.  No  doubt  the 
beginning  of  instruction  must  lie  chiefly  in  exercises 
of  perception  and  memory.  But  at  a  certain  point  the 
reason  and  the  judgment  must  be  awakened  and  brought 
into  voluntary  play.  As  a  teacher  I  would  far  rather 
have  a  pupil  give  an  incorrect  answer  in  a  way  which 
showed  that  he  had  really  been  thinking  about  the  sub- 
ject, than  a  literally  correct  answer  in  a  way  which 
showed  that  he  had  merely  swallowed  what  I  had  told 
him,  and  regurgitated  it  on  the  examination  paper." 


[61] 


CHAPTER  EIGHT 

IMAGINATION 

IN  his  very  stimulating  book,  Learning  and  Doing, 
Professor  Swift  quotes  from  a  business  man  as 
follows:  "  Modern  business  no  longer  waits  for  men 
to  qualify  after  promotion.  Through  anticipation  and 
prior  preparation  every  growing  man  must  be  largely 
ready  for  his  new  job  when  it  comes  to  him.  I  find 
very  few  individuals  make  any  effort  to  think  out  better 
ways  of  doing  things.  They  do  not  anticipate  needs, 
do  not  keep  themselves  fresh  at  the  growing  point. 
If  ever  they  had  any  imagination  they  seem  to  have 
lost  it,  and  imagination  is  needed  in  a  growing  busi- 
ness, for  it  is  through  the  imagination  that  one  antici- 
pates future  changes  and  so  prepares  for  them  before 
they  come.  Accordingly,  as  a  general  proposition,  the 
selection  of  a  man  for  a  vacancy  within  the  organiza- 
tion is  more  or  less  a  matter  of  guesswork;  Now  and 
then  an  ambitious,  wide-awake  young  man  works  into 
the  organization  and  in  a  very  short  time  is  spotted 
by  various  department  managers  for  future  promotion, 
but  the  number  of  such  individuals  is  discouragingly 
small.  The  difficulty  with  which  we  are  always  con- 
fronted is  that  our  business  grows  faster  than  do  those 
within  it.  The  men  do  not  keep  up  with  our  changes. 
The  business  grows  away  from  them,  and  quite  re- 
luctantly the  management  is  frequently  compelled  to 
go  outside  for  necessary  material.  We  need,  at  the 
present  time,  four  or  five  subordinate  chiefs  in  various 
parts  of  the  factory  and  I  can  fill  none  of  the  positions 
satisfactorily  from  material  in  hand." 

This  business  man,  unconsciously  perhaps,  puts  his 

[62] 


IMAGINATION 

finger  upon  one  of  the  weak  places  in  our  school  pro- 
cedure. He  convicts  us  of  stifling  and  repressing  the 
imagination  of  our  pupils.  For  it  is  a  matter  of  com- 
mon knowledge  that  every  normal  child  is  endowed 
with  a  vivid  imagination  when  he  enters  school.  No 
one  will  challenge  this  statement  who  has  entered  into 
the  heart  of  childhood  through  the  gateway  of  play. 
He  has  seen  a  rag  doll  invested  with  all  the  graces  of 
a  princess ;  he  has  seen  empty  spools  take  on  all  the 
attributes  of  the  railway  train;  and  he  has  seen  the 
child's  world  peopled  with  entities  of  which  the  un- 
imaginative person  cannot  know.  Children  revel  in 
the  lore  of  fairyland,  and  in  this  realm  nothing  seems 
impossible  to  them.  Their  toys  are  the  material  which 
their  imagination  uses  in  building  new  and  delightful 
worlds  for  them.  If  this  imagination  is  unimpaired 
when  they  become  grown-ups,  these  toys  are  called 
ideals,  and  these  ideals  are  the  material  that  enter 
into  the  lives  of  poets,  artists,  inventors,  scientists, 
orators,  statesmen,  and  reformers.  If  the  child  lacks 
this  quality  at  the  end  of  his  school  life,  the  school 
must  be  held  responsible,  at  least  in  part,  and  so  must 
face  the  charge  of  doing  him  an  irreparable  injury. 
It  were  better  by  far  for  the  child  to  lose  a  leg  or  an 
arm  somewhere  along  the  school  way  than  to  lose  his 
imagination.  Better  abandon  the  school  altogether  if 
it  tends  to  quench  the  divine  fire  of  imagination.  Bet- 
ter still,  devise  some  plan  of  so  reconstructing  the  work 
of  the  school  that  we  shall  forever  forestall  the  possi- 
bility of  producing  a  generation  of  spiritual  cripples. 
The  business  man  already  quoted  gives  to  the  schools 
their  cue.  He  shows  the  need  of  imagination  in  prac- 
tical affairs  and,  by  implication,  shows  that  the  school 
has  been  recreant  to  its  opportunities  in  the  way  of 

[63] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

stimulating  this  requisite  quality.  We  must  be  quite 
aware  that  the  men  and  women  who  have  done  things 
as  well  as  those  who  are  doing  things  have  had  or 
have  imagination.  Otherwise  no  achievements  would 
be  set  down  to  their  credit.  It  is  the  very  acme  of  un- 
wisdom to  expect  our  pupils  to  accomplish  things  and 
then  take  from  them  the  tools  of  their  craft.  Imag- 
ination is  an  indispensable  tool,  and  the  teacher  assumes 
a  grave  responsibility  who  either  destroys  or  blunts  it. 
Unless  the  school  promotes  imagination  it  is  not  really 
a  school,  seeing  that  it  omits  from  its  plans  and  prac- 
tices this  basic  quality.  Too  much  emphasis  cannot 
be  laid  upon  this  patent  truth,  nor  can  we  deplore  too 
earnestly  the  tendency  of  many  teachers  to  strangle 
imagination. 

We  all  recognize  C.  Hanford  Henderson  as  one  of 
cur  most  fertile  and  sane  writers  on  educational  themes 
and  we  cannot  do  better  just  here  than  to  quote, 
even  at  some  length,  from  his  facile  pen :  "  To  say 
of  man  or  woman  that  they  have  no  imagination  is  to 
convict  them  of  many  actual  and  potential  sins.  Such 
a  defect  means  obtuseness  in  manners  and  morals,  ster- 
ility in  arts  and  science,  blundering  in  the  general  con- 
duct of  life.  Children  are  often  accused  of  having 
too  much  imagination,  but  in  reality  that  is  hardly  pos- 
sible. The  imagination  may  run  riot,  and,  growing 
by  what  it  feeds  upon,  come  dangerously  near  to  un- 
truthfulness, —  the  store  of  facts  may  have  been  too 
small.  But  the  remedy  is  not  to  cripple  or  kill  the 
imagination;  it  is  rather  to  provide  the  needed  equip- 
ment of  facts  and  to  train  the  imagination  to  work 
within  the  limits  of  truth  and  probability.  The  unim- 
aginative man  is  exceedingly  dull  company.  From  the 
moment  he  opens  his  eyes  in  the  morning  until  he  closes 

[64] 


IMAGINATION 

them  at  night,  he  is  prone  to  the  sins  of  both  omission 
and  commission.  No  matter  how  good  his  intentions, 
he  constantly  offends.  No  matter  how  great  his  indus- 
try, he  fails  to  attain.  One  can  trace  many  immorali- 
ties, from  slight  breaches  of  manners  to  grave  criminal 
offenses,  to  a  simple  lack  of  imagination.  The  offender 
failed  to  see, —  he  was,  to  all  intents  and  purposes, 
blind.  At  its  best,  imagination  is  insight.  It  is  the 
direct  source  of  most  of  our  social  amenities,  of  tolera- 
tion, charity,  consideration, —  in  a  word,  of  all  those 
social  virtues  which  distinguish  the  child  of  light." 
Another  fertile  writer  says :  "  Many  a  child  has  been 
driven  with  a  soul-wound  into  corroding  silence  by 
parents  who  thought  they  were  punishing  falsehood 
when  they  were  in  reality  repressing  the  imagination 
—  the  faculty  which  master-artists  denote  as  the  first 
and  loveliest  possession  of  the  creative  mind.'5 

Some  of  our  boys  will  be  farmers  but,  if  they  lack 
imagination,  they  will  be  dull  fellows,  at  the  very  best, 
and,  relatively  speaking,  not  far  above  the  horse  that 
draws  the  plow.  The  girls  will  be  able  to  talk,  but 
if  they  lack  imagination  they  can  never  become  conver- 
sationalists. The  person  who  has  imagination  can 
cause  the  facts  of  the  multiplication  table  to  scin- 
tillate and  glow.  The  person  who  lacks  imagination 
is  unable  to  invest  with  interest  and  charm  even  the 
mountain,  the  river,  the  landscape,  or  the  poem.  The 
gossip,  the  scandal-monger,  or  the  coarse  jester  proves 
his  lack  of  imagination  and  his  consequent  inability 
to  hold  his  own  in  real  conversation.  We  hope,  of 
course,  that  some  of  our  pupils  may  become  inventors, 
but  this  will  be  impossible  unless  they  possess  imagi- 
nation. A  sociologist  states  the  case  in  this  fashion: 
"  Wealth,  the  transient,  is  material ;  achievement,  the 

[65] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

enduring,  is  immaterial.  The  products  of  achievement 
are  not  material  things  at  all.  They  are  not  ends, 
but  means.  They  are  methods,  ways,  devices,  arts, 
systems,  institutions.  In  a  word,  they  are  inventions." 
In  short,  to  say  that  one  is  an  inventor  is  but  another 
way  of  saying  that  he  has  imagination. 

It  is  one  thing  to  know  facts  but  quite  another  thing 
to  know  the  significance  of  facts.  And  imagination 
is  the  alembic  that  discovers  the  significance  of  the  facts. 
A  thousand  men  of  England  knew  the  facts  touching 
the  life  and  education  of  the  children  of  that  country, 
but  the  facts  remained  mere  facts  until  the  imagination 
of  Dickens  interpreted  them  and  thus  emancipated 
childhood  from  the  thralldom  of  ignorance  and  cruelty. 
A  thousand  men  knew  the  fact  touching  the  steam  that 
issues  from  the  tea-kettle,  but  not  until  Watts  dis- 
covered the  significance  of  the  fact  did  the  tea-kettle 
become  the  precursor  of  the  steam-engine  that  has 
transformed  civilization.  It  required  the  imagination 
of  Newton  to  interpret  the  falling  of  the  apple  and  to 
cause  thi;s  simple,  common  fact  to  lead  on  to  the  dis- 
covery of  the  great  truth  of  gravitation.  Had  Galileo 
lacked  imagination,  the  chandelier  might  have  kept  on 
swinging  but  the  discovery  of  the  rotation  of  the  earth 
would  certainly  have  been  postponed. 

In  this  view  of  the  matter  we  can  see  one  of  the 
weaknesses  of  some  of  the  work  in  our  colleges  as  well 
as  in  other  schools.  The  teachers  are  fertile  in  arriv- 
ing at  facts,  but  seem  to  think  their  tasks  completed 
with  these  discoveries  and  so  proclaim  the  discovery 
of  facts  to  be  education.  It  matters  not  that  the 
facts  are  devoid  of  significance  to  their  students,  they 
simply  proceed  to  the  discovery  of  more  facts.  They 
combine  two  or  more  substances  in  a  test-tube  and 

[66] 


IMAGINATION 

thus  produce  a  new  substance.  This  fact  is  solemnly 
inscribed  in  a  notebook  and  the  incident  is  closed.  But 
the  student  who  has  imagination  and  industry  inquires 
"What  then?"  and  proceeds  with  investigations  on 
his  own  initiative  that  result  in  a  positive  boon  to 
humanity.  Imagination  takes  the  facts  and  makes 
something  of  them,  while  the  college  teacher  has  dis- 
closed his  inability  to  cope  with  his  own  students  in 
fields  that  only  imagination  can  render  productive. 

To  quote  Henderson  once  again :  "  In  most  of  our 
current  education,  instead  of  cultivating  so  valuable 
a  quality,  we  have  stupidly  done  all  that  we  can  to 
suppress  it.  We  have  not  sufficiently  studied  the  actual 
boy  before  us  to  find  out  what  he  is  up  to,  and  what 
end  he  has  in  mind.  On  the  contrary,  we  proclaim, 
with  curious  indifference,  some  end  of  our  own  devis- 
ing, and  with  what  really  amounts  to  spiritual  brutality, 
we  try  to  drive  him  towards  it.  We  do  this,  we  irre- 
sponsible parents  and  teachers,  because  we  ourselves 
lack  imagination,  and  do  not  see  that  we  are  blunt- 
ing, instead  of  sharpening,  our  human  tool.  Yet  we 
define  education  in  terms  of  imagination  when  we  say 
that  education  is  the  unfolding  and  perfecting  of  the 
human  spirit;  or,  that  education  is  a  setting-up  in 
the  heart  of  the  child  of  a  moral  and  aesthetic  revela- 
tion of  the  universe;  for  the  human  spirit  which  we 
are  trying  to  establish  is  not  a  fact,  but  a  gracious 
possibility  of  the  future." 

Happy  is  the  child  whose  teacher  possesses  imagi- 
nation; who  can  touch  the  common  things  of  life  with 
the  magic  wand  of  her  fancy  and  invest  them  with 
supreme  charm ;  who  can  peer  into  the  future  with  her 
pupils  and  help  them  translate  the  bright  dreams  of 
today  into  triumphs  in  the  realms  of  art,  music,  science, 

[67] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

philosophy,  language,  and  philanthropy;  and  who 
builds  air-castles  of  her  own  and  thus  has  the  skill 
to  help  the  children  build  theirs.  It  is  not  easy,  if, 
indeed,  it  is  possible,  for  the  teacher  to  quicken  imagi- 
nation in  her  pupils  unless  she  herself  is  endowed  with 
this  animating  quality.  Dr.  Henry  van  Dyke  puts 
the  case  thus :  "  I  care  not  whether  a  man  is  called 
a  tutor,  an  instructor,  or  a  full  professor ;  nor  whether 
any  academic  degrees  adorn  his  name;  nor  how  many 
facts  or  symbols  of  facts  he  has  stored  away  in  his 
brain.  If  he  has  these  four  powers  —  clear  sight,  quick 
imagination,  sound  reason,  strong  will  —  I  call  him 
an  educated  man  and  fit  to  be  a  teacher."  And,  of  a 
surety,  imagination  is  not  the  least  of  these. 

To  this  end  every  teacher  should  use  every  means 
possible  to  keep  her  imagination  alive  and  luxuriant, 
and  never,  on  any  account,  permit  the  exigencies  of 
her  task  to  repress  it.  The  success  of  her  pupils 
depends  upon  her,  and  she  should  strive  against  stag- 
nation as  she  would  against  death.  The  passing  out, 
the  evaporation  of  imagination  is  an  insidious  process, 
and  when  it  is  gone  she  is  but  a  barren  fig-tree.  If  her 
imagination  is  strong  and  healthy  she  cannot  have 
a  poor  school  and  her  pupils  will  bless  her  memory 
throughout  the  years.  As  applying  to  every  grade 
of  school  we  may  well  note  the  words  of  Van  Dyke: 
"  Every  true  university  should  make  room  in  its  scheme 
for  life  out-of-doors.  There  is  much  to  be  said  for 
John  Milton's  plan  of  a  school  whose  pupils  should 
go  together  each  year  on  long  horseback  journeys 
and  sailing  cruises  to  see  the  world.  Walter  Bagehot 
said  of  Shakespeare  that  he  could  not  walk  down  a  street 
without  knowing  what  was  in  it.  John  Burroughs 
has  a  college  on  a  little  farm  beside  the  Hudson;  and 
[68] 


IMAGINATION 

John  Muir  has  a  university  called  Yosemite.  If  such 
men  cross  a  field  or  a  thicket  they  see  more  than  the 
seven  wonders  of  the  world.  That  is  culture.  And 
without  it,  all  scholastic  learning  is  arid,  and  all  the 
academic  degrees  known  to  man  are  but  china  oranges 
hung  on  a  dry  tree."  And  without  imagination  this 
type  of  culture  is  impossible. 

All  reforms  and,  indeed,  all  progress  depend  upon 
imagination.  We  must  be  able  to  picture  the  world 
as  it  ought  to  be  before  we  can  set  on  foot  plans  for 
betterment.  It  is  the  high  province  of  the  imagination 
to  enter  into  the  feelings  and  aspirations  of  others 
and  so  be  able  to  lend  a  hand ;  to  build  a  better  future 
out  of  the  materials  of  the  present ;  to  soar  above 
the  solemnities  and  conventions  of  tradition  and  to 
smile  while  soaring;  to  see  the  invisible  and  touch  the 
intangible;  and  to  see  the  things  that  are  not  and  call 
them  forth  as  realities.  Seeing  that  the  business  man, 
the  fertile-brained  essayist,  and  the  gifted  poet  agree 
in  extolling  the  potential  value  of  imagination,  we  have 
full  warrant  for  according  to  it  an  honored  place  in 
the  curriculum  of  the  school.  Too  long  has  it  been  an 
incidental  minor ;  it  is  now  high  time  to  advance  it 
to  the  rank  of  a  major. 


[69] 


CHAPTER  NINE 

REVERENCE 

AT  the  basis  of  reverence  is  respect ;  and  reverence 
is  respect  amplified  and  sublimated.  A  boy  must 
be  either  dull  or  heedless  who  can  look  at  a  bird  sailing 
in  the  air  for  five  minutes  and  not  become  surcharged 
with  curiosity  to  know  how  it  can  do  it.  His  curiosity 
must  lead  him  to  an  examination  of  the  wing  of  a  bird, 
and  his  scrutiny  will  reveal  it  as  a  marvelous  bit  of 
mechanism.  The  adjustment  and  overlapping  of  the 
feathers  will  convince  him  that  it  presents  a  wonderful 
design  and  a  no  less  wonderful  adaptation  of  means  to 
ends.  He  sees  that  when  the  bird  is  poised  in  the  air 
the  wing  is  essentially  air-tight  and  that  when  the 
bird  elects  to  ascend  or  descend  the  feathers  open  a 
free  passage  for  the  air.  Even  a  cursory  examination 
of  the  bird's  wing  must  persuade  the  boy  that,  with 
any  skill  he  might  attain,  he  could  never  fabricate  any- 
thing so  wonderful.  This  knowledge  must,  in  the  na- 
ture of  things,  beget  a  feeling  of  respect,  and  there- 
after, whenever  the  boy  sees  a  bird,  he  will  experience 
a  resurgence  of  this  feeling. 

Some  one  has  said,  "  Everything  is  infinitely  high 
that  we  can't  see  over,"  and  because  the  boy  comes  to 
know  that  he  cannot  duplicate  the  bird's  wing  it  becomes 
infinitely  high  or  great  to  him  and  so  wins  his  respect. 
To  the  boy  who  has  been  taught  to  think  seriously, 
the  mode  of  locomotion  of  a  worm  or  a  snake  is  like- 
wise a  marvel,  and  he  observes  it  with  awe.  The  boy 
who  treads  a  worm  underfoot  gives  indisputable  evi- 
dence that  he  has  never  given  serious  thought  to  its 
mode  of  travel.  Had  he  done  so,  he  would  never  com- 

[70] 


REVERENCE 

mit  so  ruthless  an  act.  The  worm  would  have  won 
his  respect  by  its  ability  to  do  a  thing  at  which  he 
himself  would  certainly  fail.  He  sees  the  worm  scaling 
the  trunk  of  a  tree  with  the  greatest  ease,  but  when 
he  essays  the  same  task  he  finds  it  a  very  difficult  mat- 
ter. So  he  tips  his  cap  figuratively  to  the  worm  and, 
in  boyish  fashion,  admits  that  it  is  the  better  man 
of  the  two.  And  never  again,  unless  inadvertently, 
will  he  crush  a  worm.  Even  a  snake  he  will  kill  only 
in  what  he  conceives  to  be  self-defense. 

An  American  was  making  his  first  trip  to  Europe. 
On  the  way  between  the  Azores  and  Gibraltar  the 
ship  encountered  a  storm  of  great  violence.  For  an 
hour  or  more  the  traveler  stood  on  the  forward  deck, 
watching  the  titanic  struggle,  feeling  the  ship  tremble 
at  each  impact  of  the  waves,  and  hearing  the  roar  that 
only  a  storm  at  sea  can  produce.  Upon  returning 
to  his  friends  he  said,  "  Never  again  can  I  speak  flip- 
pantly of  the  ocean;  never  again  can  I  use  the  ex- 
pression, *  crossing  the  pond.'  The  sea  is  too  vast 
and  too  sublime  for  that."  He  had  achieved  rever- 
ence. Many  a  child  in  school  can  spell  the  name  of 
the  ocean  and  give  a  book  definition  rather  glibly,  who, 
nevertheless,  has  not  the  faintest  conception  of  what 
an  ocean  really  is.  The  tragedy  of  the  matter  is  that 
the  teacher  gives  him  a  perfect  mark  for  his  parrot- 
like  definition  and  spelling  and  leaves  him  in  crass 
ignorance  of  the  reality.  The  boy  deals  only  with  the 
husk  and  misses  the  kernel.  When  he  can  spell  and 
define,  the  work  has  only  just  begun,  and  not  until  the 
teacher  has  contrived  to  have  him  emotionalize  the 
ocean  will  he  enter  into  the  heart  of  its  greatness, 
and  power,  and  utility  in  promoting  life,  and  so  come 
to  experience  a  feeling  of  respect  for  it.  When  it 

[71] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

has  won  his  respect  he  can  read  Victor  Hugo's  match- 
less description  of  the  sea  with  understanding,  measur- 
able appreciation,  and,  certainly,  a  thrill  of  delight. 

It  is  rare  fun  for  children,  and  even  for  grown-ups,  to 
locate  the  constellations,  planets,  and  stars.  Of 
course,  the  North  Star  is  everybody's  favorite  because 
it  is  so  steady,  so  reliable,  so  dependable.  We  know 
just  where  to  find  it,  and  it  never  disappoints  us. 
Two  boys  who  once  were  crossing  from  New  York  to 
Naples  found  great  delight  in  a  star  in  the  Southern 
sky  that  retained  its  relative  position  throughout  the 
journey.  At  the  conclusion  of  dinner  in  the  evening 
the  boys  were  wont  to  repair  to  the  deck  to  find  their 
star  and  receive  its  greetings.  In  their  passage  through 
the  Mediterranean  they  became  curious,  wondering  how 
it  came  about  that  the  star  failed  to  change  its  rela- 
tive position  in  their  journey  of  three  thousand  miles. 
When  they  realized  that  their  star  is  the  apex  of  a 
triangle  whose  base  is  three  thousand  miles  but  whose 
other  legs  are  so  long  that  the  base  is  infinitesimally 
short  by  comparison,  their  amazement  knew  no  bounds 
and  for  the  first  time  in  their  lives  they  gained  a  pro- 
found respect  for  space. 

This  new  concept  of  space  was  worth  the  trip  across 
the  ocean  to  those  boys,  and  the  wonder  is  that  space 
had  never  before  meant  anything  more  or  other  than 
a  word  to  be  spelled.  The  school  and  the  home  had 
had  boundless  opportunities  to  inculcate  in  them  a 
sense  of  space,  yet  this  delightful  task  was  left  to 
a  passenger  on  board  the  ship.  But  for  his  kindly 
offices  those  boys  might  have  gone  on  for  years  con- 
ceiving of  space  as  merely  a  word  of  five  letters.  It 
would  have  been  easy  for  parent  or  teacher  to  en- 
gender in  them  some  appreciation  of  space  by  explaining 
[72] 


REVERENCE 

to  them  that  if  they  were  to  travel  thirty  miles  a  day 
it  would  require  twenty-two  years  to  reach  the  moon, 
—  which  is,  in  reality,  our  next-door  neighbor, —  and 
that  to  reach  the  sun,  at  the  same  rate  of  travel,  would 
require  more  than  eight  thousand  years,  or  the  added 
lifetimes  of  almost  three  hundred  generations.  But 
they  were  sent  abroad  to  see  the  wonders  of  the  Old 
World  with  no  real  conception  of  space  and,  therefore, 
no  feeling  of  respect  for  it.  Before  their  trip  abroad 
they  never  could  have  read  the  last  two  verses  of  the 
eighth  chapter  of  Romans  with  any  real  appreciation. 

Still  our  schools  go  on  their  complacent  way,  teach- 
ing words,  words,  words  that  are  utterly  devoid  of 
meaning  to  the  pupils,  and,  sad  to  relate,  seem  to 
think  their  mission  accomplished.  The  pupils  are  re- 
quired to  spell  words,  define  words,  write  words,  and 
parse  words  day  after  day  as  if  these  words  were  life- 
less and  meaningless  blocks  of  wood  to  be  merely  tossed 
up  and  down  and  moved  hither  and  thither.  So  soon 
as  a  word  becomes  instinct  with  life  and  meaning,  it 
kindles  the  child's  interest  at  its  every  recurrence  and 
it  becomes  as  truly  an  entity  as  a  person.  It  is  then 
endowed  with  attributes  that  distinguish  it  clearly  from 
its  fellows  and  becomes,  to  the  child,  a  vivid  reality  in  the 
scheme  of  life.  To  our  two  boys  every  star  that  meets 
their  gaze  conjures  up  a  host  of  memories  and  helps 
to  renew  their  spiritual  experience  and  widen  their 
horizon.  Space  is  a  reality,  to  them,  a  mighty  reality, 
and  they  cannot  think  of  it  without  a  deep  sense  of 
respect. 

There  are  people  of  mature  years  who  have  never 
given  to  their  hands  a  close  examination.  Such  an 
examination  will  disclose  the  fact  that  the  hand  is  an 
instrument  of  marvelous  design.  It  will  be  seen  that 

[73] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

the  fingers  all  differ  in  length  but,  when  they  grasp 
an  orange  or  a  ball,  it  will  be  noted  that  they  are 
conterminous  —  that  the  ends  form  a  straight  line. 
This  gives  them  added  purchase  and  far  greater  power 
of  resistance.  Were  they  of  equal  length  the  pressure 
upon  the  ball  would  be  distributed  and  it  could  be 
wrested  from  the  grasp  far  more  readily.  No  mechani- 
cal contrivance  has  ever  been  designed  that  is  com- 
parable to  the  hand  in  flexibility,  deftness,  adaptability, 
or  power  of  prehension.  It  can  pick  up  a  needle  or  a 
cannon-ball  at  will.  Its  touch  is  as  light  as  a  feather 
or  as  stark  as  a  catapult.  It  can  be  as  gentle  as 
mercy  or  as  harsh  as  battle.  It  can  soothe  to  repose 
or  rouse  to  fury.  It  can  express  itself  in  the  gentle 
zephyr  or  in  the  devastating  whirlwind.  Its  versa- 
tility is  altogether  worthy  of  notice,  and  we  may  well 
hold  the  lesson  in  history  in  abeyance,  for  the  nonce, 
while  we  inculcate  due  respect  for  the  hand.  For  no 
one  can  contemplate  his  hand  for  five  minutes  and  not 
gain  for  it  a  feeling  of  profound  respect. 

What  is  true  of  the  hand  is  true  of  the  whole  human 
body.  This  is  the  very  acme  of  created  things;  this 
is  God's  masterpiece.  How  any  one  can  fail  to  respect 
such  a  wonderful  piece  of  work  is  beyond  explanation. 
The  process  of  walking  or  of  breathing  must  hold  the 
thoughtful  person  enthralled  and  enchanted.  But, 
strange  as  it  may  seem,  there  are  those  who  seem  not  to 
realize  in  what  a  marvelous  abode  their  spirits  have 
their  home.  Such  scant  respect  do  they  have  for  their 
bodies  that  they  defile  them  and  treat  them  with  shame- 
less ignominy.  They  saturate  them  with  poisons  and 
vulgarize  them  with  unseemly  practices.  They  seem 
to  regard  them  as  mere  property  to  be  used  or  abused 
at  pleasure  and  not  temples  to  be  honored.  The  man 
[74] 


REVERENCE 

who  does  not  respect  his  own  body  can  feel  no  respect 
or  reverence  for  its  Creator  nor  for  the  soul  that 
dwells  within  it.  Such  a  man  lacks  self-respect  and 
self-respect  is  the  fertile  soil  in  which  many  virtues 
flourish.  The  teaching  of  physiology  that  fails  to 
generate  a  feeling  of  deep  respect  for  the  human  body 
is  not  the  sort  of  teaching  that  should  obtain  in  our 
schools. 

Again,  a  person  who  is  possessed  of  fine  sensibilities 
sees  in  the  apple  tree  in  full  bloom  a  creation  of  tran- 
scendant  beauty  and  charm.  The  poet  cannot  describe 
it,  nor  can  the  artist  reproduce  it.  It  is  both  a  mys- 
tery and  a  miracle.  Into  this  miracle  nature  has 
poured  her  lavish  treasures  of  fertility,  of  rain,  of  sun- 
shine, and  of  zephyrs,  and  from  it  at  the  zenith  of  its 
beauty  the  full-throated  robin  pours  forth  his  heart 
in  melodious  greeting.  It  may  be  well  to  dismiss  the 
school  to  see  the  circus  parade,  but  even  more  fitting 
is  it  to  dismiss  the  school  to  see  this  burst  of  splendor. 
In  its  glorious  presence  silence  is  the  only  language 
that  is  befitting.  In  such  a  presence  sound  is  discord, 
for  such  enchantment  as  it  begets  cannot  be  made 
articulate.  Its  influence  steals  into  the  senses  and 
lifts  the  spirit  up.  To  defile  or  despoil  such  beauty 
would  be  to  desecrate  a  shrine.  But  the  sordid  man 
sees  in  this  symphony  of  color  nothing  else  than  a 
promise  of  fruit.  His  response  is  wholly  physical, 
not  spiritual  at  all.  His  spiritual  sense  seems  atrophied 
and  he  can  do  nothing  but  estimate  the  bushels  of  fruit. 
He  feels  no  respect  for  the  beauty  before  him  and  it 
is  evident  that  somewhere  along  the  line  his  spiritual 
education  was  neglected.  He  excites  our  sympathy 
and  our  hope  that  his  children  may  not  share  his  fate. 

In  the  way  of  illustrating  this  quality  of  respect, 

[75] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

we  reach  the  climax  in  the  thirty-eighth  chapter  of  the 
Book  of  Job  and  following.  The  dramatic  element  of 
literature  here  reaches  its  zenith.  God  is  the  speaker, 
the  stricken,  outcast  Job  is  the  sole  auditor,  and  the 
stage  is  a  whirlwind.  It  is  related  of  the  late  Pro- 
fessor Hodge  that,  on  one  occasion  when  he  was  about 
to  perform  an  experiment  in  his  laboratory,  he  said  to 
some  students  who  stood  near,  "  Gentlemen,  please  re- 
move your  hats ;  I  am  about  to  ask  God  a  question." 
But  here  in  this  chapter  we  have  a  still  more  sublime 
situation,  for  God  is  here  asking  questions  of  the  man. 
And  these  questions  dig  deep  into  the  life  of  the  man 
and  show  him  how  puny  and  impotent  is  the  finite  in 
the  presence  of  the  Infinite.  In  this  presence  there 
is  neither  pomp,  nor  parade,  nor  vaunting,  nor  self- 
aggrandizement,  nor  arrogance.  Even  the  printed 
page  cannot  but  induce  respect,  devoutness,  and  pro- 
found reverence,  for  it  tells  of  nature's  wonders  —  the 
snow-crystals,  the  rain,  the  dewdrop,  the  light,  the 
cloud,  the  lightning  —  and  reveals  to  the  bewildered 
sight  some  apprehension  of  the  Author  of  them  all. 

The  reader  must,  by  now,  have  divined  the  conclusion 
of  the  whole  matter.  Without  respect  there  can  be  no 
reverence ;  and,  without  reverence,  there  can  be  neither 
education  nor  civilization  that  is  worth  while.  Some 
one  has  defined  reverence  as  "  that  exquisite  constraint 
which  leads  a  man  to  hate  all  that  is  unsuitable  and 
sordid  and  exaggerated  and  to  love  all  that  is  excellent 
and  temperate  and  beautiful."  This  definition  is  both 
comprehensive  and  inclusive,  and  the  superintendent 
may  well  promulgate  it  in  his  directions  to  his  teachers. 
All  teaching  has  to  do  with  Truth  and,  in  the  presence 
of  Truth,  whether  in  mathematics,  or  science,  or  his- 
tory, or  language,  the  teacher  should  feel  that  he 

[76] 


REVERENCE 

stands  in  the  presence  of  the  Burning  Bush  and  hears 
the  command,  "  Put  off  thy  shoes  from  off  thy  feet, 
for  the  place  whereon  thou  standest  is  holy  ground." 
It  seems  a  thousand  pities  that  even  college  students 
rush  into  the  presence  of  the  Burning  Bush  in  hobnailed 
shoes,  shouting  forth  the  college  yell  as  they  go. 

The  man  who  is  reverent  disclaims  everything  that 
is  cheap,  or  vulgar,  or  coarse,  or  unseemly.  He  is  so 
essentially  fine  that  the  gaudy,  the  bizarre,  and  the 
intemperate,  in  whatever  form,  grate  upon  his  sensi- 
bilities. He  respects  himself  too  much  to  be  lacking  in 
respect  to  others.  He  instinctively  shrinks  away  from 
ugly  vulgarization  as  from  a  pestilence.  He  is  kindly, 
charitable,  sympathetic,  and  sincere.  Exaggeration, 
insinuation,  and  caricature  are  altogether  foreign  to 
his  spirit.  In  his  society  we  feel  inspired  and  ennobled. 
His  very  presence  is  a  tonic,  and  his  tongue  distills  only 
purity.  His  example  is  the  lodestar  of  our  aspirations, 
and  we  fain  would  be  his  disciples.  We  feel  him  to  be 
something  worshipful  in  that  his  life  constantly  beckons 
to  our  better  selves.  To  be  reverent  is  to  be  liberally 
educated,  while  to  be  irreverent  is  to  dwell  in  dark- 
ness and  ignorance.  To  be  reverent  is  to  live  on  the 
heights,  where  the  air  is  pure  and  tonic  and  where  the 
sunlight  is  free  from  taint.  To  be  reverent  is  to 
acknowledge  our  indebtedness  to  all  those  who,  in  art, 
in  science,  in  literature,  in  music,  or  in  philanthropy, 
have  caused  the  waters  of  life  to  gush  forth  in  clear 
abundance.  To  be  reverent  is  to  stand  uncovered  in 
the  presence  of  Life  and  to  experience  the  thrill  of 
the  spiritual  impulses  that  only  an  appreciation  of  life 
can  generate.  If  this  is  reverence,  then  the  school 
honors  itself  by  giving  this  quality  a  place  of  honor. 

[77] 


CHAPTER  TEN 

SENSE  OF  RESPONSIBILITY 

EVERY  one  who  has  had  to  do  with  Harvey's  Gram- 
mar will  readily  recall  the  sentence,  "  Milo  began 
to  lift  the  ox  when  he  was  a  calf."  Aside  from  the 
interest  which  this  sentence  aroused  as  to  .the  anteced- 
ent of  the  pronoun,  it  also  enunciated  a  bit  of  philosophy 
which  caused  the  pupils  to  wonder  about  the  possibility 
of  such  a  feat.  They  were  led  to  consider  such 
examples  of  physical  strength  as  Samson,  Hercules, 
and  the  more  modern  Sandow  and  to  wonder,  per- 
haps, just  what  course  of  training  brought  these  men 
to  their  attainment  of  physical  power.  It  is  com- 
paratively easy  for  adults  to  realize  that  such  feats  as 
these  men  accomplished  could  only  come  through  a  long 
process  of  training.  If  a  man  can  lift  a  given  weight 
on  one  day,  he  may  be  able  to  lift  a  slightly  heavier 
weight  the  next  day,  and  so  on  until  he  has  achieved 
distinction  by  reason  of  his  ability  to  lift  great  weights. 
So  it  is  in  this  matter  of  responsibility.  It  need  hardly 
be  said  that  responsibility  is  the  heaviest  burden  that 
men  and  women  are  called  upon  to  lift  or  carry.  We 
need  only  think  of  the  responsibilities  pertaining  to  the 
office  of  the  chief  ruler  of  a  country  in  time  of  war, 
or  of  the  commanding  general  of  armies,  or  of  the 
president  of  large  industrial  concerns,  and  so  on 
through  the  list.  Such  men  bear  burdens  of  responsi- 
bility that  cannot  be  estimated  in  terms  of  weights 
or  measures.  We  can  easily  think  of  the  time  when  the 
manager  of  a  great  industrial  concern  was  a  child 
in  school,  but  it  is  not  so  easy  to  think  of  the  six-year- 
old  boy  performing  the  functions  of  this  same  manager. 
[78] 


SENSE  OF  RESPONSIBILITY 

However,  we  do  know  that  the  future  rulers,  generals, 
managers,  and  superintendents  are  now  sitting  at  desks 
in  the  schools  and  it  behooves  all  teachers  to  inquire 
by  what  process  these  pupils  may  be  so  trained  that  in 
time  they  will  be  able  to  execute  these  functions. 

In  some  such  way  we  gain  a  right  concept  of  re- 
sponsibility. We  cannot  think  of  the  six-year-old 
boy  as  a  bank  president  but,  in  our  thinking,  we  can 
watch  his  progress,  in  one-day  intervals,  from  his  ini- 
tial experience  in  school  to  his  assumption  of  the  duties 
pertaining  to  the  presidency  of  the  bank.  In  thus 
tracing  his  progress  there  is  no  strain  or  stress  in  our 
thinking  nor  does  the  element  of  improbability  obtrude 
itself.  We  think  along  a  straight  and  level  road  where 
no  hills  arise  to  obstruct  the  view.  Each  succeeding 
day  marks  an  inch  or  so  of  progress  toward  the  goal. 
But  should  we  set  the  responsibilities  of  the  bank  presi- 
dent over  against  the  powers  of  the  child,  the  disparity 
would  overwhelm  our  thinking  and  our  minds  would 
be  thrown  into  confusion.  Our  thinking  is  level  and 
easy  only  when  we  conceive  of  strength  and  responsi- 
bility advancing  side  by  side  and  at  the  same  rate. 

It  would  be  an  interesting  experience  to  overhear  the 
teacher  inquiring  of  the  superintendent  how  she  should 
proceed  in  order  to  inculcate  in  her  pupils  a  sense  of 
responsibility.  We  should  be  acutely  alert  to  catch 
every  word  of  the  superintendent's  reply.  If  he  were 
dealing  with  such  a  concrete  problem  as  Milo  and  the 
calf,  his  response  would  probably  be  satisfactory ;  but 
when  such  an  abstract  quality  as  responsibility  is  pre- 
sented to  him  his  reply  might  be  vague  and  unsatis- 
factory. His  thinking  may  have  had  to  do  with  con- 
crete problems  so  long  that  an  abstract  quality  presents 
a  real  difficulty  to  his  mental  operations.  Yet  the  ques- 

[79] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

tion  which  the  teacher  propounds  is  altogether  perti- 
nent and  reasonable  and,  if  he  fails  to  give  a  satisfactory 
reply,  he  will  certainly  decline  in  her  esteem. 

The  normal  child  welcomes  such  a  measure  of  respon- 
sibility as  falls  within  the  compass  of  his  powers  and 
acquits  himself  of  it  in  a  manner  that  is  worthy  of 
commendation.  This  open  truth  encourages  the  con- 
viction that  the  superintendent  who  can  give  to  the 
teacher  a  definite  plan  by  which  she  will  be  able  to 
develop  a  sense  of  responsibility,  will  commend  himself 
to  her  favor,  if  not  admiration.  They  both  know  full 
well  that  if  the  pupil  emerges  from  the  school  period 
lacking  this  quality  he  will  be  a  helpless  weight  upon 
society  and  a  burden  to  himself  and  his  family,  no 
matter  what  his  mental  attainments.  He  will  be  but  a 
child  in  his  ability  to  cope  with  situations  that  confront 
him  and  cannot  perform  the  functions  of  manhood. 
Though  a  man  in  physical  stature  he  will  shrink  from 
the  ordinary  duties  that  fall  to  the  lot  of  a  man  and, 
like  a  child,  will  cling  to  the  hand  of  his  mother  for 
guidance.  In  all  situations  he  will  show  himself  a 
spiritual  coward. 

The  problem  is  easy  of  statement  but  by  no  means  so 
easy  of  solution.  At  the  age  of  six  the  boy  takes  his 
place  at  a  desk  in  the  school.  Twenty  years  hence, 
let  us  say,  he  will  be  a  railway  engineer.  As  such  he 
must  drive  his  engine  at  forty  miles  an  hour  through 
blinding  storm,  or  in  inky  darkness,  or  through  menac- 
ing and  stifling  tunnels,  or  over  dizzy  bridges,  or  around 
the  curve  on  the  edge  of  the  precipice  —  and  do  this 
with  no  shadow  of  fear  or  hint  of  trepidation,  but 
always  with  a  keen  eye,  a  cool  head,  and  a  steady  hand. 
In  his  keeping  are  the  lives  of  many  persons,  and  any 
wavering  or  unsteadiness,  on  his  part,  may  lead  to 

[80] 


SENSE  OF  RESPONSIBILITY 

speedy  disaster.  Somewhere  along  the  way  between 
the  ages  of  six  and  twenty-six  he  must  gain  the  ability 
to  assume  a  heavy  responsibility,  and  it  would  seem  a 
travesty  upon  rational  education  to  force  him  to  acquire 
this  ability  wholly  during  the  eight  years  succeeding  his 
school  experience.  If,  at  the  age  of  eighteen,  he  does 
not  exhibit  some  ability  in  this  respect,  the  school 
may  justly  be  charged  with  dereliction. 

Or,  twenty  years  hence,  this  boy  may  be  a  physician. 
If  so,  he  will  find  a  weeping  mother  clinging  to  him  and 
imploring  him  to  save  her  baby.  He  will  see  a  strong 
man  broken  with  sobs  and  offering  him  a  fortune  to 
save  his  wife  from  being  engulfed  in  the  dark  shadows. 
His  ears  will  be  assailed  with  delirious  ravings  that 
call  to  him  for  relief  and  life.  He  will  be  importuned 
by  the  grief-crushed  child  not  to  let  her  mother  go. 
He  will  be  called  upon  to  grapple  with  plague,  with 
pestilence,  with  death  itself.  Unless  he  can  give  succor, 
hope  departs  and  darkness  enshrouds  and  blights.  He 
alone  can  hold  disease  and  death  at  bay  and  bid  dark- 
ness give  place  to  light  and  cause  sorrow  to  vanish 
before  the  smile  of  joy.  He  stands  alone  at  the  portal 
to  do  battle  against  the  demons  of  devastation  and 
desolation.  And,  if  he  fails,  the  plaints  of  grief  will 
penetrate  the  innermost  chambers  of  his  soul.  He 
must  not  fail.  So  he  toils  on  through  the  long  night 
watches,  disdaining  food  and  rest,  that  the  breaking 
day  may  bring  in  gladness  and  crown  the  arts  of  heal- 
ing. And  the  school  that  does  not  share  in  the  glory  of 
such  achievement  misses  a  noble  opportunity. 

Again,  twenty  years  hence,  the  little  girl  who  now 
sits  at  her  desk,  crowned  with  golden  ringlets,  will 
be  a  wife  and  mother,  and  the  mistress  of  a  well-con- 
ditioned home.  She  is  a  composite  of  Mary  and  Mar- 

[81] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

tha  and  in  her  kingdom  reigns  supreme  and  benign. 
In  her  home  there  is  no  hint  of  '  raw  haste,  half-sister 
to  delay,"  for  long  since  she  acquired  the  habit  of 
serene  mastery.  She  meets  her  manifold  responsibili- 
ties with  a  smile  and  sings  her  way  through  them  all. 
If  clouds  arise,  she  banishes  them  with  the  magic  of 
her  poise  and  amiability.  She  can  say  with  Napoleon, 
"  I  do  not  permit  myself  to  become  a  victim  of  circum- 
stances ;  I  make  circumstances."  Back  in  the  school 
she  learned  order,  system,  method,  and  acquired  the 
sense  of  responsibility.  At  first  the  teacher's  desk 
was  her  special  care,  and  by  easy  gradations  the  scope 
of  her  activities  was  widened  until  she  came  to  feel 
responsible  for  the  appearance  of  the  entire  schoolroom. 
Now  in  her  womanhood  she  is  a  delight  to  her  husband, 
her  children,  her  guests,  and  her  neighbors.  Emer- 
gencies neither  daunt  her  nor  render  her  timorous,  but, 
serene  and  masterful,  she  meets  the  new  situation  as  a 
welcome  novelty,  and,  with  supreme  amiability,  accepts 
it  as  a  friendly  challenge  to  her  resourcefulness.  She 
needs  not  to  apologize  or  explain,  for  difficulties  dis- 
appear at  her  approach  because,  in  the  school,  re- 
sponsibility was  one  of  the  major  goals  of  her  training. 

Or,  again,  two  decades  hence  this  child  may  have 
attained  to  a  position  in  the  world  of  affairs  where 
good  taste,  judgment,  perseverance,  self-control,  gra- 
ciousness,  and  tact  are  accounted  assets  of  value. 
But  these  qualities,  gained  through  experience,  are  as 
much  a  part  of  herself  as  her  hands.  A  thousand  times 
in  the  past  has  the  responsibility  been  laid  upon  her 
of  making  selections  touching  shapes,  colors,  materials, 
or  types,  till  now  her  judgment  is  regarded  as  final. 
Her  self-control  has  become  proverbial,  but  it  is  not 
the  miracle  that  it  seems,  for  it  has  become  grooved 

[82] 


SENSE  OF  RESPONSIBILITY 

into  a  habit  by  much  experience.  She  met  all  these 
lions  in  her  path  at  school  and  vanquished  them  all, 
with  the  aid  of  the  teacher's  counsel  and  encouragement. 
She  can  perform  heroisms  now  because  she  long  since 
contracted  the  habit  of  heroisms.  And  responsibility 
is  most  becoming  to  her  now  because  in  the  years  past 
she  learned  how  to  wear  it.  She  has  multiplied  her 
powers  and  usefulness  a  hundred-fold  by  reason  of  hav- 
ing learned  to  assume  responsibility. 

She  has  learned  to  lift  her  eyes  and  scan  the  far 
horizon  and  not  be  afraid.  With  gentle,  kindly  eyes 
she  can  look  into  the  faces  of  men  and  women  in  all 
lands  and  not  be  abashed  in  their  presence.  She  can 
soothe  the  child  to  rest  and  prove  herself  a  scourge 
to  evil-doers,  all  within  the  hour.  She  knows  herself 
equal  to  the  best,  but  not  above  the  least.  She  does 
not  need  to  pose,  for  she  knows  her  own  power  without 
ever  vaunting  it.  Her  simplicity  and  sincerity  are  the 
fragrant  bloom  of  her  sense  of  responsibility  both  to 
herself  and  her  kind.  She  gives  of  herself  and  her 
means  as  a  gracious  discharge  of  obligation  to  the 
less  fortunate,  but  never  as  charity.  She  feels  her- 
self bound  up  in  the  interests  of  humanity  and  would 
do  her  full  part  in  helping  to  make  life  more  worth 
while.  Her  touch  has  the  gift  of  healing  and  her  tongue 
distills  kindness.  Her  obligations  to  the  human  family 
are  privileges  to  be  esteemed  and  enjoyed  and  not  bur- 
dens to  be  endured  and  reviled.  And  she  thinks  of 
her  superintendent  and  teachers  with  gratitude  for  their 
part  in  the  process  of  developing  her  into  what  she  is, 
and  what  she  may  yet  become. 

Only  such  as  the  defiant,  wicked,  and  rebellious  Cain 
can  ask  the  question,  "Am  I  my  brother's  keeper?" 
The  man  who  feels  no  responsibility  for  the  character 

[83] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

and  good  name  of  the  community  of  which  he  is  a  mem- 
ber is  a  spiritual  outcast  and  will  become  a  social 
pariah  if  he  persists  in  maintaining  his  attitude  of  in- 
difference. For,  after  all,  responsibility  amounts  to  a 
spiritual  attitude.  If  the  man  feels  no  responsibility 
to  his  community  he  will  begrudge  it  the  taxes  he  pays, 
the  improvements  he  is  required  to  make,  and  will  be 
irked  by  every  advance  that  makes  for  civic  better- 
ment. To  him  the  church  and  school  will  seem  ex- 
crescences and  superfluities,  nor  would  he  grieve  to  see 
them  obliterated.  His  exodus  would  prove  a  distinct 
boon  to  the  community.  He  may  have  a  noble  physique, 
good  mentality,  much  knowledge,  and  large  wealth, 
and  yet,  with  all  these  things  in  his  favor,  he  is  neverthe- 
less a  liability  for  the  single  reason  that  he  lacks  a 
sense  of  responsibility.  Could  his  teachers  have  fore- 
seen his  present  attitude  no  efforts,  on  their  part,  would 
have  seemed  too  great  if  only  they  could  have  fore- 
stalled his  misfortune.  And  it  is  for  the  teachers  to 
determine  whether  the  boy  of  today  shall  become  a  du- 
plicate of  the  man  here  portrayed. 

Every  man  who  lives  under  a  democratic  form  of 
government  has  the  opportunity  before  him  each  day 
to  raise  or  lower  the  level  of  democracy.  When  the 
night  comes  on,  if  he  reflects  upon  the  matter,  he  must 
become  conscious  that  he  has  done  either  the  one  or 
the  other.  Either  democracy  is  a  better  thing  for 
humanity  because  of  his  day's  work  and  influence,  or 
it  is  a  worse  thing.  This  is  a  responsibility  that  he 
can  neither  shift  nor  shirk.  It  is  fastened  upon  him 
with  or  against  his  will.  It  rests  with  him  to  determine 
whether  he  would  have  every  other  man  and  every  boy 
in  the  land  select  him  as  their  model  and  follow  his 
example  to  the  last  detail.  He  alone  can  decide  whether 
[84] 


SENSE  OF  RESPONSIBILITY 

he  would  have  all  men  indulge  in  the  practices  that  con- 
stitute his  daily  life,  consort  with  his  companions, 
hold  his  views  on  all  subjects,  read  only  the  books  that 
engage  his  interest,  duplicate  his  thoughts,  aspirations, 
impulses,  and  language,  and  become,  each  one,  his  other 
self.  Every  boy  who  now  sits  in  the  school  must  answer 
these  questions  for  himself  sooner  or  later,  nor  can  he 
hope  to  evade  them.  Happy  is  that  boy,  therefore, 
whose  teacher  has  the  foresight  and  the  wisdom  to 
train  him  into  such  a  sense  of  responsibility  as  will 
enable  him  to  answer  them  in  such  a  way  that  the 
future  will  bring  to  him  no  pang  of  remorse. 

Thomas  A.  Edison  is  one  of  the  benefactors  of  his 
time.  He  reached  out  into  space  and  grasped  a  sub- 
stance that  is  both  invisible  and  intangible,  harnessed 
it  with  trappings,  pushed  a  button,  and  the  world  was 
illumined.  There  were  years  of  unremitting  toil  behind 
this  achievement,  years  of  discouragement  bordering 
on  despair,  but  years  in  which  the  light  of  hope  was  kept 
burning.  We  accept  his  gift  with  the  very  acme  of 
nonchalance  and  with  little  or  no  feeling  of  gratitude. 
Perhaps  he  would  not  have  it  otherwise.  We  do  not 
know.  But  certain  it  is  that  his  marvelous  achieve- 
ment has  made  life  more  agreeable  to  millions  of  people 
and  he  must  be  conscious  of  this  fact.  At  some  time 
in  his  life  he  must  have  achieved  a  sense  of  responsibility 
to  his  fellows  and  this  worthy  sentiment  must  have 
become  the  guiding  principle  in  all  his  labors.  If  some 
teacher  fostered  in  him  this  sense  of  responsibility,  she 
did  a  piece  of  work  for  the  world  that  can  never  be 
measured  in  terms  of  salary.  She  did  not  teach  arith- 
metic, or  grammar,  or  geography.  She  taught  Edi- 
son. And  one  of  the  big  results  of  her  teaching  was  his 
attainment  of  this  sense  of  responsibility  which  far 

[85] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

overtops  all  the  arithmetic  and  history  that  he  ever 
learned.  The  man  who  carried  the  message  to  Garcia 
is  another  fitting  illustration  of  this  same  principle. 
In  executing  his  commission  he  overcame  difficulties 
that  would  have  seemed  insurmountable  to  a  less  in- 
trepid man.  He  kept  his  eye  on  the  goal  and  endured 
almost  unspeakable  hardships  in  pressing  forward 
toward  this  goal.  Somehow  and  somewhere  in  his  life 
he  had  learned  the  meaning  of  responsibility  and  so  felt 
that  he  must  not  fail.  The  world  came  to  know  him 
as  a  hero  because  he  was  a  hero  at  heart  and  his  heroic 
achievement  had  its  origin  in  the  training  that  led  him 
to  feel  a  sense  of  responsibility. 


[86] 


CHAPTER  ELEVEN 

LOYALTY 

WHEN  the  boy  overhears  a  companion  put  a 
slight  upon  the  good  name  of  his  mother,  he 
does  not  deliberate  but,  like  a  flash,  smites  the  mouth 
that  defames.  He  may  deliberate  afterward,  for  the 
mind  then  has  a  fact  upon  which  to  work,  but  if  he  is 
a  worthy  son  it  is  not  till  afterwards.  Spiritual  im- 
pulses are  as  quick  as  powder  and  as  direct  as  a  shaft 
of  light.  So  quick  are  they  that  we  are  prone  to  dis- 
regard them  in  our  contemplation  of  their  results.  We 
see  the  boy  strike  and  conclude,  in  a  superficial  way, 
that  his  hand  initiated  the  action,  nor  take  pains  to 
trace  this  action  back  to  the  primal  cause  in  the  spirit- 
ual impulse.  True,  both  mind  and  body  are  called  into 
action,  but  only  as  auxiliaries  to  carry  out  the  behests 
of  the  spirit.  When  the  man  utters  an  exclamation 
of  delight  at  sight  of  his  country's  flag  in  a  foreign 
port,  the  sound  that  we  hear  is  but  the  conclusion  or 
completion  of  the  series  of  happenings.  It  is  not  the 
initial  happening  at  all.  On  the  instant  when  his  eyes 
caught  sight  of  the  flag  something  took  place  inside  the 
man's  nature.  This  spiritual  explosion  was  telegraphed 
to  the  mind,  the  mind,  in  turn,  issued  a  command  to 
the  body,  and  the  sound  that  was  noted  was  the  final 
result.  In  a  general  way,  education  is  the  process  of 
training  mind  and  body  to  obey  and  execute  right 
commands  of  the  spirit.  This  definition  will  justify 
our  characterization  of  education  as  a  spiritual  pro- 
cess. 

Seeing,  then,  that  the  body  is  but  a  helper  whose 

[87] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

function  is  to  execute  the  mandates  of  the  spirit,  and 
seeing,  too,  that  education  is  a  process  of  the  spirit, 
it  follows  that  our  concern  must  be  primarily  and 
always  with  the  spirit  as  major.  It  is  the  spirit  that 
reacts,  not  the  mind  or  the  body,  and  education  is, 
therefore,  the  process  of  inducing  right  reactions  of 
the  spirit.  The  nature  of  these  reactions  depends  upon 
the  quality  of  the  external  stimuli.  If  we  provide 
the  right  sort  of  stimuli  the  reactions  will  be  right. 
If,  today,  the  spirit  reacts  to  a  beautiful  picture, 
tomorrow,  to  the  tree  in  bloom,  the  next  day  to  an 
alluring  landscape,  and  the  next  to  the  glory  of  a 
sunrise,  in  time  its  reactions  to  beauty  in  every  form 
will  become  habitual.  If  we  can  induce  reactions,  day 
by  day,  to  beautiful  or  sublime  passages  in  literature, 
in  due  time  the  spirit  will  refuse  to  react  to  what  is 
shoddy  and  commonplace.  By  inducing  reactions  to 
increasingly  better  musical  compositions,  day  after  day, 
we  finally  inculcate  the  habit  of  reacting  only  to  high- 
grade  music,  and  the  lower  type  makes  no  appeal.  By 
such  a  process  we  shall  finally  produce  an  educated, 
cultivated  man  or  woman,  the  crowning  glory  of  educa- 
tion. 

The  measure  of  our  success  in  this  process  of  educa- 
tion will  be  the  number  of  reactions  we  can  induce  to 
the  right  sort  of  stimuli.  In  this,  we  shall  have  occa- 
sion to  make  many  substitutions.  The  boy  who  has 
been  reacting  to  ugliness  must  be  lured  away  by  the 
substitution  of  beauty.  The  beautiful  picture  will  take 
the  place  of  the  bizarre  until  nothing  but  such  a  pic- 
ture will  give  pleasure  and  satisfaction.  Indeed,  the 
substitution  of  beauty  for  ugliness  will,  in  time,  induce 
a  revolt  against  what  is  ugly  and  stimulate  the  boy 
to  desire  to  transform  the  ugly  thing  into  a  thing  of 
[88] 


LOYALTY 

beauty.  Many  a  home  shows  the  effects  of  reaction  in 
the  school  to  artistic  surroundings.  The  child  reacts 
to  beauty  in  the  school  and  so  yearns  for  the  same  sort 
of  stimuli  in  the  home.  When  the  little  girl  entreats 
her  mother  to  provide  for  her  such  a  ribbon  as  the 
teacher  wears,  we  see  an  exemplification  of  this  prin- 
ciple. When  only  the  best  in  literature,  in  art,  in  na- 
ture, in  music,  and  in  conduct  avail  to  produce  re- 
actions, we  may  well  proclaim  the  one  who  reacts  to 
these  stimuli  an  educated  person.  It  is  well  to  repeat 
that  these  reactions  are  all  spiritual  manifestations 
and  that  the  conduct  of  mind  and  body  is  a  resultant. 

To  casual  thinking  it  may  seem  a  far  cry  from  re- 
actions and  external  stimuli  to  loyalty,  but  not  so  by 
any  means.  The  man  or  woman  who  has  been  led  to 
react  to  the  Madonna  of  the  Chair,  the  Plow  Oxen, 
or  the  ceiling  of  the  Sistine  Chapel  will  experience  a 
revival  and  recurrence  of  the  reaction  at  every  sight 
of  the  masterpiece,  whether  the  original  or  a  reproduc- 
tion. That  masterpiece  has  become  this  person's 
standard  of  art  and  neither  argument,  nor  persuasion, 
nor  sophistry  can  divorce  him  from  his  ideal.  The 
boy's  mother  is  one  of  his  ideals.  He  believes  her  to 
be  the  best  woman  alive,  and  it  were  a  sorry  fact  if  he 
did  not.  Hence,  when  her  good  qualities  are  assailed 
his  spirit  explodes  and  commands  his  right  arm  to 
become  a  battering-ram.  The  kindness  of  the  mother 
has  caused  the  boy's  spirit  to  react  a  thousand  times, 
and  his  reaction  in  defending  her  name  from  calumny 
was  but  another  evidence  of  an  acquired  spiritual 
habit. 

Hence  it  is  that  we  find  loyalty  enmeshed  in  these 
elements  that  pertain  to  the  province  of  psychology. 
It  must  be  so,  seeing  that  these  elements  and  loyalty 

[89]  ' 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

have  to  do  with  the  spirit,  for  loyalty  is  nothing  other 
than  a  reaction  to  the  same  external  stimuli  that 
have  induced  reactions  many  times  before.  In  setting 
up  loyalty,  therefore,  as  one  of  the  big  goals  of  school 
endeavor  the  superintendent  has  only  to  make  a  list  of 
the  external  stimuli  that  will  induce  proper  reactions 
and  so  groove  these  reactions  into  habit.  His  prob- 
lem, thus  stated,  seems  altogether  simple  but,  in  work- 
ing out  the  details,  he  will  find  himself  facing  the  entire 
scheme  of  education.  If  he  would  induce  reactions  that 
spell  loyalty  he  must  make  no  mistake  in  respect  of  ex- 
ternal stimuli,  for  it  must  be  reiterated  that  the  char- 
acter of  the  stimuli  conditions  the  reactions.  We  may 
not  hope  to  achieve  loyalty  unless  through  the  years 
of  training  we  have  provided  stimuli  of  the  right 
sort. 

If  the  sentiment  of  loyalty  concerns  itself  with  the 
teachings  of  the  Bible  and  the  tenets  of  the  church, 
we  call  it  religion ;  if  it  has  to  do  with  one's  country 
and  what  its  flag  represents,  we  call  it  patriotism ;  and 
in  many  another  relation  we  call  it  fidelity.  Hence 
it  is  obvious  that  loyalty  is  an  inclusive  quality  and 
in  its  ramifications  reaches  out  into  every  phase  of 
life.  This  gives  us  clear  warrant  for  making  it  one 
of  the  prime  objectives  in  a  rational,  as  distinguished 
from  a  traditional,  scheme  of  education.  The  pro- 
gressive superintendent  who  is  endowed  with  per- 
spicacity, resourcefulness,  altruism,  and  faith  in  him- 
self will  consult  the  highest  interests  of  the  boys  and 
girls  of  his  school  before  he  relegates  the  matter  to 
oblivion.  To  such  as  he  we  must  look  for  advance 
and  for  the  redemption  of  our  schools  from  their  tra- 
ditional moorings.  To  such  as  he  we  must  look  for 
the  inoculation  of  the  teachers  with  such  virus  as  will 

[90] 


LOYALTY 

render  them  vital,  dynamic,  and  eager  to  essay  any 
new  task  that  gives  promise  of  a  larger  and  better 
outlook  for  their  pupils. 

In  the  second  chapter  of  Revelation,  tenth  verse, 
we  read,  "  Be  thou  faithful  unto  death  and  I  will  give 
thee  the  crown  of  life."  Now  this  is  quite  as  true  in 
a  psychological  sense  as  it  is  in  a  scriptural  sense. 
It  is  a  great  pity  that  we  do  not  read  the  Bible  far 
more  for  lessons  in  pedagogy.  However,  too  many 
people  misread  the  quoted  passage.  They  interpret 
the  expression  "  unto  death "  as  if  it  were  "  until 
death."  This  interpretation  would  weaken  the  ex- 
pression. The  martyrs  would  not  recant  even  when 
the  fires  were  blazing  all  about  them  or  when  their  bodies 
were  lacerated.  They  were  faithful  unto  death.  In 
his  poem  Invictus  Henley  says, 

In  the  fell  clutch  of  circumstance 
I  have  not  winced  nor  cried  aloud; 
Under  the  bludgeonings  of  chance, 
My  head  is  bloody  but  unbowed. 

And  only  so  can  the  spirit  hope  to  achieve  emancipa- 
tion and  win  out  into  the  clear.  This  is  the  crown  of 
life.  Michael  Angelo  represents  Joseph  of  Arimathea 
standing  at  the  tomb  of  the  Master  with  head  erect  and 
with  the  mien  of  faith.  He  did  not  understand  at  all, 
and  yet  his  faithful  heart  encouraged  him  to  hope  and 
to  hold  his  head  from  drooping.  He  was  faithful  even 
in  the  darkness  and  on  the  morning  of  the  Resurrection 
he  received  his  crown. 

When  we  set  up  loyalty  as  one  of  our  major  goals 
we  shall  become  alert  to  every  illustration  of  it  that 
falls  under  our  gaze.  The  story  of  Nathan  Hale  will 
become  newly  alive  and  will  thrill  as  never  before. 

[91] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

Over  against  Nathan  Hale  we  shall  set  Philip  Nolan 
for  the  sake  of  comparison  and  contrast.  Even  though 
our  pupils  may  regard  Joan  of  Arc  as  a  fanatic,  her 
heroism  and  her  fidelity  to  her  convictions  will  shine 
forth  as  a  star  in  the  night  and  her  example  as  illus- 
trating loyalty  will  be  as  seed  planted  in  fertile  soil. 
In  our  quest  for  exemplars  we  shall  find  the  pages 
of  history  palpitating  with  life.  We  may  sow  dead 
dragon's  teeth,  but  armed  men  will  spring  into  being. 
Thermopylae  will  become  a  new  story,  while  William 
Tell  and  Arnold  Winkelried  will  take  rank  among  the 
demigods.  Sidney  Carton  will  become  far  more  than 
a  mere  character  of  fiction,  for  on  his  head  we  shall  find 
a  halo,  and  Horace  Mann  will  become  far  more  than 
a  mere  schoolmaster.  Historians,  poets,  novelists, 
statesmen,  and  philanthropists  will  rally  about  us  to 
reinforce  our  efforts  and  to  cite  to  us  men  and  women  of 
all  times  who  shone  resplendent  by  reason  of  their 
loyalty. 

Our  objective  being  loyalty,  we  shall  omit  the  lesson 
in  grammar  for  today  in  order  to  induce  the  spirits 
of  our  pupils  to  react  to  the  story  of  Jephthah's 
daughter.  For  once  they  have  emotionalized  it,  have 
really  felt  its  power,  this  story  will  become  to  them 
a  rare  possession  and  will  entwine  itself  in  the  warp 
and  woof  of  their  lives  and  form  a  pattern  of  exceed- 
ing beauty  whose  colors  will  not  fade.  They  shall  hear 
the  solemn  vow  of  the  father  to  sacrifice  unto  the 
Lord  the  first  living  creature  that  meets  his  gaze  after 
the  victory  over  his  enemies.  They  shall  see  him  re- 
turning invested  with  the  glory  of  the  victor.  Then 
the  child  will  be  seen  running  forth  to  meet  him,  the 
first  living  creature  his  gaze  has  fallen  upon  since  the 
battle.  They  will  note  her  gladness  to  see  him  and 
[92] 


LOYALTY 

to  know  that  he  is  safe.  They  will  see  the  dancing 
of  her  eyes  and  hear  her  rippling,  joyous  laughter. 
They  will  become  tense  as  the  father  is  telling  her  of 
his  vow.  But  the  climax  is  reached  when  they  hear 
her  saying,  "  My  father,  if  thou  hast  opened  thy  mouth 
unto  the  Lord,  do  to  me  according  to  that  which  hath 
proceeded  out  of  thy  mouth."  And,  with  bated  breath, 
they  see  her  meeting  death  with  a  smile  that  her  father 
may  keep  his  covenant  with  the  Lord.  Ever  after  this 
story  will  mark  to  them  the  very  zenith  of  loyalty, 
and  the  lesson  in  grammar  can  await  another  day. 

Again,  instead  of  the  regular  reading  lesson  the 
school  may  well  substitute  the  story  of  David,  as  given 
in  the  eleventh  chapter  of  Chronicles.  "  Now  three  of 
the  thirty  captains  went  down  to  the  rock  to  David, 
into  the  cave  of  Adullam ;  and  the  host  of  the  Philistines 
encamped  in  the  valley  of  Rephaim.  And  David  was 
then  in  the  hold,  and  the  Philistines'  garrison  was  then 
at  Bethlehem.  And  David  longed,  and  said,  *  O  that 
one  would  give  me  drink  of  the  water  of  the  well  of 
Bethlehem,  that  is  at  the  gate.'  And  the  three  brake 
through  the  host  of  the  Philistines,  and  drew  water  out 
of  the  well  of  Bethlehem,  that  was  by  the  gate,  and  took 
it,  and  brought  it  to  David;  but  David  would  not 
drink  of  it,  but  poured  it  out  to  the  Lord,  and  said, 
6  My  God  forbid  it  me,  that  I  should  do  this  thing. 
Shall  I  drink  the  blood  of  these  men  that  have  put  their 
lives  in  jeopardy?  for  with  the  jeopardy  of  their  lives 
they  brought.'  Therefore  he  would  not  drink  it." 

Without  any  semblance  of  irreverence  we  may  para- 
phrase this  story  slightly  and  have  our  own  General 
Pershing  stand  in  the  place  of  David  asking  for  water. 
Then  we  can  see  three  of  his  soldiers  going  across  No 
Man's  Land  in  quest  of  the  water  which  he  craves. 

[93] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

When  they  return,  bearing  the  water  to  him  from  the 
spring  in  the  enemy's  territory,  we  can  see  him  pour- 
ing the  water  upon  the  ground  and  refusing  to  drink 
it  because  of  the  hazard  of  the  enterprise.  No  ful- 
some explanation  will  need  to  be  given  to  impress  upon 
the  pupils  the  loyalty  of  the  soldiers  to  their  general, 
nor  yet  the  loyalty  of  the  general  to  his  soldiers.  Or 
again,  in  the  oral  English  two  of  the  pupils  may  be 
asked  to  tell  the  stories  of  Ruth  and  Esther,  and 
certain  it  is,  if  these  stories  are  told  effectively,  the 
pupils  will  thrill  with  admiration  for  the  loyalty  of 
these  two  noble  characters. 

On  his  way  home  for  vacation  a  college  student  was 
telling  his  companion  on  the  train  of  the  trip  ahead, 
relating  that  at  such  a  time  he  would  reach  the  junc- 
tion and  at  a  certain  hour  he  would  walk  into  his  home 
just  in  time  for  supper;  he  concluded  by  paying  a 
tribute  to  the  noble  qualities  of  his  mother.  This  man 
is  now  an  attorney  in  a  large  city  and  it  is  incon- 
ceivable that  he  can  ever  be  guilty  of  apostasy  from 
the  ideals  and  principles  to  which  he  reacted  in  his 
boyhood  in  that  village  home.  Whatever  temptations 
may  come  to  him,  the  mother's  face  and  voice  and  the 
memory  of  her  high  principles  will  forbid  his  yielding 
and  hold  him  steady  and  loyal  to  that  mother  and 
her  teaching.  He  must  feel  that  if  he  should  debase 
himself  he  would  dishonor  her,  and  that  he  cannot  do. 
He  can  still  hear  her  voice  echoing  from  the  years 
long  gone,  and  feel  the  kindly  touch  of  her  hand  upon 
his  brow.  When  troubles  came,  mother  knew  just  what 
to  do  and  soon  the  sun  was  shining  again.  It  was  her 
magic  that  made  the  rough  places  smooth,  her  voice 
that  exorcised  all  evil  spirits.  She  it  was  who  drove 
the  lions  from  his  path  and  made  it  a  place  of  peace 
[94] 


LOYALTY 

and  joy.     To  be  disloyal  to  her  would  be  to  lose  his 
manhood. 

Whatever  vicissitudes  befall,  we  yearn  to  return  to 
the  old  homestead,  for  there,  and  there  alone,  can  we 
experience,  in  full  measure,  the  reactions  that  came 
from  our  early  associations  with  the  old  well,  the  bridge 
that  spans  the  brook,  the  trees  bending  low  with  their 
luscious  fruit,  the  grape  arbor,  the  spring  that  bubbles 
and  laughs  as  it  gives  forth  its  limpid  treasure,  the 
fields  that  are  redolent  of  the  harvest  season,  and  the 
royal  meal  on  the  back  porch.  The  man  who  does  not 
smile  in  recalling  such  scenes  of  his  boyhood  days  is 
abnormal,  disloyal,  and  an  apostate.  These  are  the 
scenes  that  anchor  the  soul  and  give  meaning  to  civili- 
zation. The  man  who  will  not  fight  for  the  old  home, 
and  for  the  memory  of  father  and  mother,  will  not  fight 
for  the  flag  of  his  country  and  is,  at  heart,  an  alien. 
But  the  man  who  is  loyal  to  the  home  of  his  early  years, 
loyal  to  the  memory  of  his  parents,  and  loyal  to  the 
principles  which  they  implanted  in  his  life,  such  a  man 
can  never  be  less  than  loyal  to  the  flag  that  floats  over 
him,  loyal  to  the  land  in  which  he  finds  his  home,  and 
ever  loyal  to  the  best  and  highest  interests  of  that  land. 
Never,  because  of  him,  will  the  colors  of  the  flag  lose 
their  luster  or  the  stars  grow  dim.  He  will  be  faithful 
even  unto  death,  because  loyalty  throbs  in  his  every 
pulsation,  is  proclaimed  by  his  every  word,  is  enmeshed 
in  every  drop  of  his  blood  and  has  become  a  vital  part 
of  himself. 


[95] 


CHAPTER  TWELVE 

DEMOCRACY 

IN  a  recent  book  H.  G.  Wells  says  that  education 
has  lost  its  way.  Whether  we  give  assent  to  this 
statement  or  not,  it  must  be  admitted  that  it  is  a  direct 
challenge  to  the  school,  the  home,  the  pulpit,  the  press, 
to  government,  and  to  society.  If  education  has  in- 
deed lost  its  way,  the  responsibility  rests  with  these 
educational  agencies.  If  education  has  lost  its  way, 
these  agencies  must  unite  in  a  benevolent  conspiracy 
to  help  it  find  it  again.  The  war  has  brought  these 
agencies  into  much  closer  fellowship  and  they  are  now 
working  in  greater  harmony  than  ever  before.  This 
is  due  to  the  fact  that  they  are  working  to  a  comr 
mon  end,  that  they  are  animated  by  a  common  pur- 
pose. The  war  is  producing  many  readjustments  and 
a  new  scale  of  values.  Many  things  that  were  once 
considered  majors  are  now  thought  of  as  minors,  and 
the  work  of  reconstruction  has  only  just  begun.  Civ- 
ilization is  now  in  the  throes  of  a  re-birth  and  people 
are  awakening  from  their  complacency  and  thinking 
out  toward  the  big  things  of  life.  They  are  lifting 
their  gaze  above  and  beyond  party,  and  creed,  and 
racial  ties,  and  territorial  boundaries,  and  fixing  it 
upon  their  big  common  interests.  More  and  more  has 
their  thinking  been  focused  upon  democracy,  until  this 
has  become  a  watchword  throughout  the  world.  About 
this  focal  point  people's  thoughts  are  rallying  day  by 
day,  and  their  community  of  feeling  and  thinking  is 
leading  to  community  of  action. 

Primarily,  democracy  is  a  spiritual  impulse,  the 
quintessence  of  the  Golden  Rule.  "  As  a  man  thinketh 

[96] 


DEMOCRACY 

in  his  heart  so  is  he,"  and  this  spiritual  quality  in- 
evitably precedes  and  conditions  democracy  in  its  out- 
ward manifestations.  Feeling,  thinking,  willing,  doing 
—  these  are  the  stages  in  the  law  of  life.  The  Golden 
Rule  in  action  has  its  inception  in  the  love  of  man  for 
his  fellow-man.  The  action  is  but  the  visible  fruitage 
of  the  invisible  spiritual  impulse.  The  soldier  in  the 
trench,  the  sailor  on  the  ship,  the  nurse  in  the  hospital, 
the  worker  in  the  factory,  and  the  official  at  his  desk, 
all  exemplify  this  principle.  The  outward  manifesta- 
tions of  the  inward  impulse,  democracy,  are  many  and 
varied,  and  the  demands  of  the  war  greatly  increased 
both  the  number  and  variety.  People  essayed  tasks 
that,  a  few  years  ago,  would  have  seemed  impossible; 
nor  did  they  demean  themselves  in  so  doing.  The  pro- 
duction and  conservation  of  food  has  become  a  national 
enterprise  that  has  enlisted  the  active  cooperation  of 
men,  women,  and  children  of  all  classes,  creeds,  and  con- 
ditions. Rich  and  poor  joined  in  the  work  of  war  gar- 
dens, thinking  all  the  while  not  only  of  their  own  larders 
but  quite  as  much  of  their  friends  across  the  sea.  And 
while  they  helped  win  the  war,  they  were  winning  their 
own  souls,  for  they  were  yielding  obedience  to  a  spirit- 
ual impulse  and  not  a  mere  animal  desire.  Thus  Ameri- 
cans and  the  people  of  other  lands,  like  children  at 
school,  are  learning  the  lesson  of  democracy.  More- 
over, they  are  now  appalled  at  the  wastage  of  former 
years  and  at  the  cheapness  of  many  of  the  things  that 
once  held  their  interest. 

In  this  process  of  achieving  an  access  of  democracy 
it  holds  true  that  "  There  is  no  impression  without 
expression."  Each  reaction  of  the  spirit  tends  to 
groove  the  impression  into  a  habit,  and  this  process  has 
had  a  thousand  exemplifications  before  our  eyes  since  the 

[97] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

opening  of  the  war.  People  who  were  only  mildly 
inoculated  with  the  democratic  spirit  at  first  became 
surcharged  with  this  spirit  because  of  their  many  re- 
actions. They  have  been  obeying  the  behests  of  spirit- 
ual impulse,  working  in  war  gardens,  eliminating 
luxuries,  purchasing  bonds,  contributing  to  benevolent 
enterprises,  until  democracy  is  their  ruling  passion. 
Every  effort  a  man  puts  forth  in  the  interest  of  hu- 
manity has  a  reflex  influence  upon  his  inner  self  and 
he  experiences  a  spiritual  expansion.  So  it  has  come 
to  pass  that  men  and  women  are  doing  two,  three,  or 
ten  times  the  amount  of  work  they  did  in  the  past  and 
doing  it  better.  Their  aroused  and  enlarged  spiritual 
impulses  are  the  enginery  that  is  driving  their  minds 
and  bodies  forward  into  virgin  territory,  into  new 
and  larger  enterprises,  and  thus  into  a  wider,  deeper 
realization  of  their  own  capabilities.  So  the  leaven 
of  democracy  is  working  through  difficulties  of  sur- 
passing obduracy  and  resolving  situations  that  seemed, 
in  the  past,  to  be  beyond  human  achievement.  An$ 
of  democracy  it  may  be  said,  as  of  Dame  Rumor  of  old, 
"  She  grows  strong  by  motion  and  gains  power  by 
going.  Small  at  first  through  fear,  she  presently  raises 
herself  into  the  air,  she  walks  upon  the  ground  and  lifts 
her  head  among  the  clouds."  On  the  side  of  democracy, 
at  any  rate,  it  would  seem  that  education  is  beginning 
to  find  its  way  again. 

In  the  thinking  of  most  people  democracy  is  a  form 
of  government ;  but  primarily  it  is  not  this  at  all. 
Rather  it  is  a  spiritual  attitude.  The  form  of  govern- 
ment is  an  outward  manifestation  of  the  inward  feeling. 
Our  ancestors  held  democracy  hidden  in  their  hearts 
as  they  crossed  the  ocean  long  before  it  became  visible 
as  a  form  of  government.  The  form  of  government  was 

[98] 


DEMOCRACY 

inevitable,  seeing  that  they  possessed  the  feeling  of 
democracy,  and  that  they  were  journeying  to  land  in 
obedience  to  the  dictates  of  this  feeling.  In  education 
for  democracy  the  form  of  government  is  an  after-con- 
sideration; that  will  come  as  a  natural  sequence.  The 
chief  thing  is  to  inoculate  the  spirits  of  people  with  a 
feeling  for  democracy.  This  germ  will  grow  out  into 
a  form  of  government  because  of  the  unity  of  feeling 
and  consequent  thinking.  When  this  spiritual  attitude 
is  generated,  not  only  does  the  form  of  government  fol- 
low, but  people  meet  upon  the  plane  of  a  common  pur- 
pose and  give  expression  to  their  inner  selves  in  like 
movements.  They  come  to  realize  that,  in  a  large 
way,  each  one  is  his  brother's  keeper.  They  are  drawn 
together  in  closer  sympathy  and  good-will;  artificial 
barriers  disappear;  and  they  all  become  interested  in 
the  common  good.  Their  interests,  purposes,  and 
activities  become  unified,  and  life  becomes  better  and 
richer.  Actuated  by  a  common  impulse,  they  exemplify 
what  Kipling  says  in  his  Sons  of  Martha: 

Lift  ye  the  stone  or  cleave  the  wood  to  make  d*path  more  fair  or 
flat, 

Lo,  it  is  black  already  with  blood  some  Son  of  Martha  spilled  for 
that, 

Not  as  a  ladder  from  Earth  to  Heaven,  not  as  an  altar  to  any 
creed, 

But  simple  Service,  simply  given,  to  their  own  kind,  in  their  com- 
mon need. 

As  Dr.  Henry  van  Dyke  well  says,  "  It  is  the  silent 
ideal  in  the  hearts  of  the  people  which  molds  character 
and  guides  action." 

It  will  be  admitted  without  qualification  that  the 
school,  when  well  administered,  constitutes  a  force  that 
is  altogether  favorable  to  the  development  of  the  spirit 

[99] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

of  democracy,  and  no  one  will  deny  that  democracy 
is  a  worthy  goal  toward  which  the  activities  of  the  school 
should  be  directed.  It  is  easy  to  see  just  how  geog- 
raphy, for  instance,  may  be  made  a  means  to  this  end. 
The  members  of  the  class  represent  many  conditions  of 
society,  but  in  the  study  of  geography  they  unite  in 
a  common  enterprise  and  have  interests  in  common. 
Thus  their  spirits  merge  and,  for  the  time,  they  become 
unified  in  a  common  quest.  They  become  coordinates 
and  confederates  in  this  quest  of  geography,  and  the 
spirit  of  democracy  expands  in  an  atmosphere  so  favor- 
able to  growth.  These  pupils  may  differ  in  race,  in 
creed,  or  in  color,  but  these  differences  are  submerged 
in  the  zeal  of  a  common  purpose.  Lines  of  demarcation 
are  obliterated  and  they  are  drawn  together  because 
of  their  thinking  and  feeling  in  unison.  The  caste 
system  does  not  thrive  in  the  geography  class  and 
snobbery  languishes.  The  pupils  have  the  same  books, 
the  same  assignments,  the  same  teacher,  and  share  alike 
in  all  the  privileges  and  pleasures  which  the  class  pro- 
vides. Their  grades  are  given  on  merit,  with  no  sem- 
blance of  discrimination.  In  short,  they  achieve  the 
democratic  attitude  of  spirit  by  means  of  the  study  of 
geography. 

If  the  teacher  holds  democracy  in  mind,  all  the  while, 
as  the  goal  of  endeavor,  she  will  find  abundant  oppor- 
tunities to  inculcate  and  develop  the  democratic  ideal. 
By  tactful  suggestion  she  directs  the  activities  of  the 
children  into  channels  that  lead  to  unity  of  purpose. 
Where  help  is  needed,  she  arranges  that  help  may  be 
forthcoming.  Where  sympathy  will  prove  a  solace, 
sympathy  will  be  given,  for  sympathy  grows  sponta- 
neously in  a  democratic  atmosphere.  Books,  pictures, 
and  flowers  come  forth  as  if  by  magic  to  bear  their 

[100] 


DEMOCRACY 

kindly  messages  and  to  render1  their  appointed  service. 
By  the  subtle  alchemy  of  her  very  presence,  the  teacher 
who  is  deeply  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  democracy  fuses 
the  spirits  of  her  pupils  and  causes  them  to  blend  in 
the  pursuit  of  truth.  Thus  she  brings  it  to  pass  that 
the  spirit  of  democracy  dominates  the  school  and  each 
pupil  comes  to  feel  a  sense  of  responsibility  for  the 
well-being  of  all  the  others.  So  the  school  achieves  the 
goal  of  democracy  by  means  of  the  studies  pursued,  and 
the  pupils  come  to  experience  the  altruism,  the  impulse 
to  serve,  and  the  centrifugal  urge  of  the  democratic 
spirit. 


[101] 


CHAPTER  THIRTEEN 

SEKENITY 

OERENITY  does  not  mean  either  stolidity  or  leth- 
^-J  argy;  far  otherwise.  Nor  does  it  mean  sluggish- 
ness, apathy  or  phlegmatism ;  quite  the  contrary.  It 
does  mean  depth  as  opposed  to  shallowness,  bigness  as 
opposed  to  littleness,  and  vision  as  opposed  to  spiritual 
myopia.  It  means  dignity,  poise,  aplomb,  balance.  It 
means  that  there  is  sufficient  ballast  to  hold  the  ship 
steady  on  its  way,  no  matter  how  much  sail  it  spreads. 
When  we  see  serenity,  we  are  quite  aware  of  other  spirit- 
ual qualities  that  foster  it  and  lift  it  into  view.  We 
know  that  courage  is  one  of  the  hidden  pillars  on  which 
it  rests  and  that  sincerity  contributes  to  its  grace  and 
charm.  It  is  a  vital  crescent  quality  as  staunch  as 
the  oak  and  as  graceful  as  the  rainbow.  It  evermore 
stands  upon  a  pedestal,  and  a  host  of  devotees  do  it 
homage.  It  is  as  majestic  and  beautiful  as  the  iceberg 
but  as  warm-hearted  as  love.  It  has  reserve,  and  yet 
it  attracts  rather  than  repels.  A  thousand  influences 
are  poured  into  the  alembic  of  the  spirit,  and  serenity 
issues  forth  in  modest  splendor. 

This  quality  of  the  spirit  both  betokens  and  embodies 
power,  and  power  governs  the  universe.  Its  power  is 
not  that  of  the  storm  that  harries  and  devastates,  but 
rather  that  of  the  sunshine  that  fructifies,  purifies, 
chastens,  and  ripens.  It  does  not  rush  or  crash  into  a 
situation  but  steals  in  as  quietly  as  the  dawn,  without 
noise  or  bombast,  and,  by  its  gentle  influence,  softens 
asperities  and  wins  a  smile  from  the  face  of  sorrow, 
or  discouragement,  or  anger.  Its  presence  transforms 
discord  into  harmony,  irradiates  gloom,  and  evokes  rare 

[102] 


SERENITY 

flowers  from  the  murky  soil  of  discontent.  Whatever 
storms  may  rage  elsewhere  and  whatever  darkness  may 
enshroud,  it  ever  keeps  its  place  as  the  center  of  a 
circle  of  calm  and  light.  It  is  Venus  of  Milo  come 
to  life,  silently  distilling  the  beauty  and  splendor  of 
living.  In  its  presence  harshness  becomes  gentleness, 
hysteria  becomes  equanimity,  and  sound  becomes  silence. 
From  its  presence  vaunting  and  vainglory  and  arro- 
gance hasten  away  to  be  with  their  own  kind.  By  its 
power,  as  of  a  miracle,  it  changes  the  dross  into  fine 
gold,  the  grotesque  into  the  seemly,  the  vulgar  into  the 
pure,  the  water  into  wine.  Into  the  midst  of  commo- 
tion and  confusion  it  quietly  moves,  saying,  "  Peace, 
be  still ! "  and  there  is  quiet  and  repose.  Like  the 
sun-crowned  summit  of  the  mountain,  it  stands  erect 
and  sublime  nor  heeds  the  cloudy  tumult  at  its  feet. 
In  the  school,  the  teacher  who  exemplifies  and  typifies 
this  quality  of  serenity  is  never  less  than  dignified  but, 
withal,  is  never  either  cold  or  rigid.  Children  nestle 
about  her  in  their  affections  and  expand  in  her  presence 
as  flowers  open  in  the  sunshine.  She  cannot  be  a 
martinet  nor,  in  her  presence,  can  the  children  become 
sycophants.  Her  very  presence  generates  an  atmos- 
phere that  is  conducive  to  healthy  growth.  There  is 
that  impelling  force  about  her  that  draws  people  to 
her  as  iron  filings  are  drawn  to  the  magnet.  Her 
smile  stills  the  tumult  of  youthful  exuberance  and  when 
the  children  look  at  her  they  gain  a  comprehensive 
definition  of  a  lady.  Her  poise  steadies  the  children 
in  all  the  ramifications  of  their  work,  her  complete 
mastery  of  herself  wins  their  admiration,  and  her  com- 
plete mastery  of  the  situation  wins  their  respect.  They 
become  inoculated  with  her  spirit  and  make  daily  ad- 
vances toward  the  goal  of  serenity.  Knowledge  is  her 

[103] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

meat  and  drink  and,  through  the  subtle  alchemy  of  sub- 
limation, her  knowledge  issues  forth  into  wisdom.  She 
does  not  pose,  for  her  simplicity  and  sincerity  have 
no  need  of  artificial  garnishings.  Her  outward  mien 
is  but  the  expression  of  her  spiritual  power,  and  when 
we  contemplate  her  we  know  of  a  truth  that  education 
is  a  spiritual  process. 

To  the  teacher  without  serenity,  the  days  abound 
in  troubles.  She  is  nervous,  peevish,  querulous,  and 
irritable,  and  her  pupils  become  equally  so.  She  thinks 
of  them  as  incorrigibles  and  tells  them  so.  To  her  they 
seem  bad  and  she  tells  them  so.  Her  animadversions 
reflect  upon  their  parents  and  their  home  life  as  well 
as  themselves  and  she  takes  unction  to  herself  by  reason 
of  her  strictures.  Her  spiritual  ballast  is  unequal  to 
the  sail  she  carries  and  her  craft  in  consequence  careens 
and  every  day  ships  water  of  icy  coldness  that  chills 
her  pupils  to  the  heart.  She  has  knowledge,  indeed 
much  knowledge,  but  she  lacks  wisdom,  hence  her  knowl- 
edge becomes  weakness  and  not  power.  She  has  spirit- 
ual hysteria  which  manifests  itself  in  her  manner,  in 
her  looks,  and  in  her  voice.  Her  spiritual  strength 
is  insufficient  for  the  load  she  tries  to  carry  and  her 
path  shows  uneven  and  tortuous.  She  nags  and  scolds 
in  strident  tones  that  ruffle  and  rasp  the  spirits  of  her 
pupils  and  beget  in  them  a  longing  to  become  whatever 
she  is  not.  She  is  noisy  where  quiet  is  needful;  she 
causes  disturbance  where  there  should  be  peace;  and 
she  disquiets  where  she  should  soothe.  She  may  have 
had  training,  but  she  lacks  education,  for  her  spiritual 
qualities  show  only  chaos.  The  waters  of  her  soul  are 
shallow  and  so  are  lashed  into  tumult  by  the  slightest 
storm.  She  lacks  serenity. 

The  test  of  a  real  teacher  is  not  whether  she  will  be 

[104] 


SERENITY 

good  to  the  children  but,  rather,  whether  she  will  be 
good  for  the  children,  and  these  concepts  are  wide 
apart.  If  our  colleges  and  normal  schools  could  but 
gain  the  notion  that  their  function  is  to  prepare 
teachers  who  will  be  good  for  children  they  might  find 
occasion  to  modify  their  courses  radically.  Unless  she 
has  serenity  the  teacher  is  not  good  for  children,  for 
serenity  is  one  of  the  qualities  which  they  themselves 
should  possess  as  the  result  of  their  school  experience 
and  it  is  not  easy  for  them  to  achieve  this  quality  if 
the  teacher's  example  and  influence  are  adverse.  We 
test  prospective  teachers  for  their  knowledge  of  this 
subject  and  that,  when,  in  reality,  we  should  be  trying 
to  determine  whether  they  will  be  good  for  the  pupils. 
But  we  have  contracted  the  habit  of  thinking  that 
knowledge  is  power  and  so  test  for  knowledge,  thinking, 
futilely,  that  we  are  testing  for  power.  We  judge  of  a 
teacher's  efficacy  by  some  marks  that  examiners  inscribe 
upon  a  bit  of  paper,  "  a  thing  laughable  to  gods  and 
men."  She  may  be  proficient  in  languages,  sciences, 
and  arts  and  still  not  be  good  for  the  children  by  reason 
of  the  absence  of  spiritual  qualities.  None  the  less, 
we  admit  her  to  the  school  as  teacher  when  we  would 
decline  to  admit  her  to  the  hospital  as  nurse.  We  say 
she  would  not  be  good  for  the  patients  in  the  hospital 
but  nevertheless  accept  her  as  the  teacher  of  our  chil- 
dren, 

In  Ephesians  we  read,  "  But  the  fruit  of  the  Spirit 
is  love,  joy,  peace,  longsuffering,  gentleness,  goodness, 
faith,  meekness,  temperance,"  and  such  an  array  of 
excellent  spiritual  qualities  should  attract  the  attention 
of  all  the  agencies  that  have  to  do  with  the  preparation 
of  teachers.  We  need  only  to  make  a  list  of  the 
opposites  of  these  qualities  to  be  convinced  that  the 

[105] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

teacher  who  possesses  these  opposites  would  not  be 
good  for  the  children.  Now  serenity  embodies  all  the 
foregoing  excellent  qualities  and,  therefore,  the  teacher 
who  has  serenity  has  a  host  of  qualities  that  will  make 
for  the  success  and  well-being  of  her  pupils.  Again, 
quoting  from  Henderson :  "  My  whole  point  is  that 
these  spiritual  qualities  in  a  boy  are  infinitely  more 
important  to  his  present  charm  and  future  achievement 
than  any  amount  of  academic  training,  than  the  most 
complete  knowledge  of  reading,  writing,  arithmetic,  his- 
tory, geography,  grammar,  spelling,  classics,  and  natu- 
ral science.  For  charm  and  achievement  are  of  the 
Spirit.  It  is  very  clear,  then,  that  we  ought  to  make 
these  spiritual  qualities  the  major  end  of  all  our  en- 
deavor during  those  wonderful  years  of  grace;  and 
that  we  ought  to  allow  the  intellectual  development, 
up  to  fourteen  years  at  least,  to  be  a  by-product,  valu- 
able and  welcome  certainly,  but  not  primarily  sought 
after.  In  the  end  we  should  get  much  the  larger  har- 
vest of  intellectual  power,  and  much  the  larger  man." 
We  cannot  hope  to  achieve  the  reconstructed  school 
until  our  notion  of  teaching  and  teachers  has  been 
reconstructed.  When  we  secure  teachers  who  have 
education  and  not  mere  knowledge,  we  may  begin  to 
hope.  We  must  look  to  the  colleges  and  normal  schools 
to  furnish  such  teachers.  If  they  cannot  do  so,  our 
schools  must  plod  along  on  the  path  of  tradition  with- 
out hope  of  finding  the  better  way.  There  are  faint 
indications,  however,  here  and  there,  that  the  colleges 
and  normal  schools  are  beginning  to  stir  in  their  sleep 
and  are  becoming  somewhat  aware  of  their  opportuni- 
ties and  responsibilities.  We  shall  hail  with  acclaim 
the  glad  day  when  they  come  to  realize  that  the 
preparation  of  teachers  for  their  work  is  a  task  of 
[106] 


SERENITY 

large  import  and  goes  deeper  than  facts,  and  statistics, 
and  theories,  and  knowledge.  If  they  furnish  a  teacher 
who  has  the  quality  of  serenity,  we  shall  all  be  fully 
alive  to  the  fact  that  that  quality  is  the  luscious  and 
nutritious  fruitage  of  scholarshp,  of  wide  knowledge, 
of  much  reading,  of  deep  meditation,  and  keen  obser- 
vation. But  these  elements,  either  singly  or  in  com- 
bination, are  but  veneer  unless  they  strike  their  roots 
into  the  spiritual  nature  and  are  thus  nourished  into 
spiritual  qualities.  Excavating  into  serenity,  we  shall 
discover  the  pure  gold  of  scholarship;  we  shall  find 
knowledge  in  great  abundance;  we  shall  find  the  spirit 
of  the  greatest  and  best  books ;  and  we  shall  come  upon 
the  cloister  in  which  meditation  has  done  its  perfect 
work. 

The  machine  that  is  run  to  the  extreme  limit  of  its 
capacity  splutters,  sizzles,  hisses,  and  quivers,  and 
finally  shakes  itself  into  a  condition  of  ineffectiveness. 
But  the  machine  that  is  run  well  within  the  limits  of 
its  capacity  is  steady,  noiseless,  serene,  effective,  and 
durable.  So  with  people.  The  person  who  essays  a 
task  that  is  beyond  his  capacity  is  certain  to  come 
to  grief  and  to  create  no  end  of  disturbance  to  him- 
self and  others  before  the  final  catastrophe.  If  the 
steam-chest  or  boiler  is  not  equal  to  the  task,  wisdom 
and  safety  would  counsel  the  installation  of  a  larger 
one.  Here  is  one  of  the  tragedies  of  our  scheme  of 
education.  The  spirit  is  the  power-plant  of  all  life's 
operations  and  in  this  plant  are  many  boilers.  Instead 
of  calling  more  and  more  of  these  into  action,  we  seem 
intent  upon  repressing  them  and  thus  we  reduce  the 
capacity  of  the  plant  as  a  whole.  When  we  should 
be  lighting  or  replenishing  the  fires  under  the  boilers  of 
imagination,  initiative,  aspiration,  and  reverence,  we 

[107] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

spend  our  time  striving  to  bank  or  quench  these  fires 
and  in  playing  and  dawdling  with  the  torches  of  arith- 
metic, grammar,  and  history  with  which  we  should  be 
kindling  the  fires.  Thus  we  diminish  the  power  of  the 
plant  while  life's  activities  are  calling  for  extension 
and  enlargement.  We  seem  to  be  trying  to  train  our 
pupils  to  work  with  one  or  but  few  boilers  when  there 
are  scores  of  them  available  if  only  we  knew  how  to 
utilize  them. 

Hence,  it  must  appear  that  reserve-power  and 
serenity  are  virtually  synonymous.  The  teacher  who 
has  achieved  serenity  never  uses  all  the  power  at  her 
command  and,  in  consequence,  all  her  actions  are  easy, 
quiet,  and  even.  She  is  always  stable  and  never  mer- 
curial or  spasmodic.  She  encounters  steep  grades,  to 
be  sure,  but  with  ease  and  grace  she  applies  a  bit  more 
power  from  her  abundant  supply  and  so  compasses  the 
difficulty  without  disturbing  the  calm.  She  is  fully 
conscious  of  her  reservoir  of  power  and  can  concen- 
trate all  her  attention  upon  the  work  in  hand.  The 
ballast  in  the  hold  keeps  the  mast  perpendicular  and 
the  sails  in  position  to  catch  the  favoring  breeze.  We 
admire  and  applaud  the  graceful  ship  as  it  speeds  along 
its  course,  giving  little  heed  to  the  ballast  in  the  hold 
that  gives  it  poise  and  balance.  But  the  ballast  is 
there,  else  the  ship  would  not  be  moving  with  such 
majestic  mien.  Nor  was  this  ballast  provided  in  a  day. 
Rather  it  has  been  accumulating  through  the  years,  and 
bears  the  mark  of  college  halls,  of  libraries,  of  labora- 
tories, of  the  auditorium,  of  the  mountain,  the  ocean, 
the  starry  night,  of  the  deep  forest,  of  the  landscape, 
and  of  communion  with  all  that  is  big  and  fine. 

Socrates  drinking  the  hemlock  is  a  fitting  and  in- 
spiring illustration  of   serenity.     In  the  presence   of 
[108] 


SERENITY 

certain  and  imminent  death  he  was  far  less  perturbed 
than  many  another  man  in  the  presence  of  a  pin-prick. 
And  his  imperturbability  betokened  bigness  and  not 
stolidity.  While  his  disciples  wept  about  him,  he  could 
counsel  them  to  calmness  and  discourse  to  them  upon 
immortality.  He  wept  not,  nor  did  he  shudder  back 
from  the  ordeal,  but  calm  and  masterful  he  raised  the 
cup  to  his  lips  and  smiled  as  he  drank.  His  serenity 
won  immortality  for  his  name;  for  wherever  language 
may  be  spoken  or  written,  the  story  of  Socrates  will 
be  told.  History  will  not  permit  his  name  to  be 
swallowed  up  in  oblivion,  not  alone  because  he  was  the 
victim  of  ignorance  and  prejudice  but  also  because  his 
serenity,  which  was  the  offspring  and  proof  of  his  wis- 
dom, did  not  fail  him  and  his  friends  in  the  supreme 
test.  It  is  not  a  slight  matter,  then,  to  set  up  serenity 
as  one  of  the  goals  in  our  school  work.  Nor  is  it  a 
slight  matter  for  the  teacher  to  show  forth  this  quality 
in  all  her  work  and  so  inspire  her  pupils  to  follow  in 
her  footsteps. 

We  hope,  of  course,  that  the  boys  and  girls  of  our 
schools  may  attain  serenity  so  that,  even  in  their  days 
of  youth,  urged  on  as  they  are  by  youthful  exuberance, 
they  may  be  orderly,  decorous,  and  kindly-disposed. 
We  would  have  them  polite,  as  a  matter  of  course,  but 
we  would  hope  that  their  politeness  may  be  a  part 
of  themselves  and  not  a  mere  accretion.  They  will 
have  joy  of  life,  but  so  does  their  teacher  who  is  pos- 
sessed of  serenity.  Joy  is  not  necessarily  boisterous. 
The  strains  of  music  are  no  less  music  because  they  are 
mellow.  We  would  have  our  young  people  think  so- 
berly but  not  solemnly.  And  when  all  our  people,  young 
and  old,  reach  the  goal  of  serenity  they  will  extol  the 
teachers  and  the  schools  that  showed  them  the  way. 

[109] 


CHAPTER  FOURTEEN 

LIFE 

FINALLY,  we  come  to  the  chief  among  the  goals, 
which  is  life  itself.  In  fact,  life  is  the  super-goal. 
We  study  manual  arts,  science,  and  language  that  we 
may  achieve  the  goals  of  integrity,  imagination,  aspira- 
tion, and  serenity,  and  these  qualities  we  weave  into 
the  fabric  of  life.  Upon  the  spiritual  qualities  we 
weave  into  it,  depend  the  texture  and  pattern  of  this 
fabric  and  the  generating  and  developing  of  these  qual- 
ities and  the  weaving  of  them  into  this  fabric  —  this 
we  call  life.  When  we  look  upon  a  person  who  is  well- 
conditioned  and  whose  life  is  well-ordered,  in  body,  in 
mind,  and  in  spirit,  we  know,  at  once,  that  he  possesses 
integrity,  initiative,  a  sense  of  responsibility,  reverence, 
and  other  high  qualities  that  compose  the  person  as  we 
see  him.  We  do  not  reflect  upon  what  he  knows  of 
history,  of  geography,  or  of  music,  for  we  are  taking 
note  of  an  exemplification  of  life.  Indeed,  the  presence 
or  absence  of  these  qualities  determines  the  character 
of  the  person's  life.  Hence  it  is  that  life  is  the  supreme 
goal  of  endeavor.  Life  is  a  composite  and  the  crown- 
piece  of  all  the  qualities  toward  which  we  strive  by 
means  of  arithmetic  and  grammar  —  in  short,  of  all 
our  activities  both  in  school  and  out. 

One  of  our  mistakes  is  that  we  confuse  life  and  life- 
time, and  construe  life  to  mean  the  span  of  life.  In 
this  conception  the  unit  of  measurement  is  so  large 
that  our  concept  of  life  evaporates  into  a  vague  general- 
ization. Life  is  too  specific,  too  definite  for  that.  The 
quality  of  life  may  better  be  measured  and  tested  in 
one-hour  periods  of  duration.  When  the  clock  strikes 

[110] 


LIFE 

nine,  we  know  that  in  just  sixty  minutes  it  will  strike 
ten.  In  the  space  of  those  sixty  minutes  we  may  find 
a  cross-section  of  life.  In  a  single  hour  we  may  experi- 
ence a  thousand  sensations,  arrive  at  a  thousand  judg- 
ments, and  make  a  thousand  responses  to  things  about 
us.  In  that  hour  we  may  experience  joy,  sorrow,  love, 
hate,  envy,  malice,  sympathy,  kindliness,  courage, 
cowardice,  pettiness,  magnanimity,  egoism,  altruism, 
cruelty,  mercy  —  a  list,  in  fact,  that  reaches  on  almost 
interminably.  If  we  only  had  a  spiritual  cyclometer 
attached  to  us,  when  the  clock  strikes  ten  we  should 
have  an  interesting  moment  in  noting  the  record.  Only 
in  some  such  way  may  each  one  of  us  gain  a  true  notion 
of  what  his  own  life  is.  The  one-hour  period  is  quite 
long  enough  for  a  determination  of  the  spiritual  atti- 
tude and  disposition  of  the  individual. 

It  is  no  small  matter  to  achieve  life,  big,  full,  round, 
abounding,  pulsating  life;  but  it  is  certainly  well  worth 
striving  for.  Some  one  has  defined  sin  as  the  distance 
between  what  one  is  and  what  he  might  have  been;  and 
this  distance  measures  his  decline  from  the  sphere  of 
life  to  which  he  had  right  and  title.  For  life  is  a 
sphere,  seeing  that  it  extends  in  all  directions.  Its 
limits  are  conterminous  with  the  boundaries  of  time 
and  space.  The  feeble-minded  person  has  life,  but  only 
in  a  very  restricted  sphere.  He  eats;  he  drinks;  he 
sleeps  ;  he  wanders  in  narrow  areas  ;  and  that  is  all.  His 
thinking  is  weak,  meager,  and  fitful.  To  him  darkness 
means  a  time  for  sleeping,  and  light  a  time  for  eating 
and  waiting.  He  produces  nothing  either  of  thought 
or  substance,  but  is  a  pensioner  upon  the  thinking  and 
substance  of  others.  His  eyesight  is  strong  and  his 
hearing  unimpaired ;  but  he  neither  sees  nor  hears  as 
normal  persons  do,  because  his  spirit  is  incapable  of 

cm] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

positive  reactions,  and  his  mind  too  weak  to  give  com- 
mands to  his  bodily  organs  at  the  behest  of  the  spirit. 
In  the  language  of  psychology,  he  lacks  a  sensory  foun- 
dation by  which  to  react  to  external  stimuli. 

In  striking  contrast  is  the  man  whose  sphere  of  life 
is  large,  whose  spirit  is  capable  of  reacting  to  the  orient 
and  the  Occident,  to  height  and  depth,  and  whose  mind 
flashes  across  the  space  from  the  dawn  to  the  sunset, 
and  from  nadir  to  zenith.  Space  is  his  playground, 
and  his  companions  are  the  stars.  Such  a  man  feels 
and  knows  more  life  in  an  hour  than  his  antithesis 
could  feel  and  know  in  a  century.  To  his  spirit  there 
are  no  me-tes  and  bounds ;  it  has  freedom  and  strength 
to  make  excursions  to  the  far  limits  of  space  and  time. 
Life  conies  to  him  from  a  thousand  sources  and  in  a 
thousand  ways  because  he  is  able  to  go  out  to  meet  it. 
There  has  been  developed  in  him  a  sensory  foundation 
by  which  he  can  react  to  every  influence  the  universe 
affords,  to  light  and  shadow,  to  joy  and  sorrow,  to 
the  near  and  the  far,  to  the  then  and  the  now,  to  the 
lowly  and  the  sublime,  and  to  the  finite  and  the  Infinite. 
He  has  a  big  spirit,  which  is  first  in  command ;  he 
has  a  strong,  active  mind,  which  is  second  in  com- 
mand; and  he  has  a  loyal  company  of  bodily  organs 
that  are  able  and  willing  to  obey  and  execute  com- 
mands. 

To  such  a  man  we  apply  all  the  epithets  of  compli- 
ment and  commendation  which  the  language  yields  and 
cite  him  as  an  exemplification  of  life  at  high  tide,  of 
life  in  its  supreme  fullness  and  splendor.  The  knowl- 
edge of  the  world  comes  to  his  doors  to  do  his  bidding; 
before  him  the  arts  and  sciences  make  their  obeisance; 
and  wisdom  is  his  pillar  of  cloud  by  day  and  his  pillar 
of  fire  by  night.  Therefore  we  call  him  educated ;  we 

[112] 


LIFE 

call  him  a  man  of  culture;  we  call  him  a  gentleman; 
and  all  because  he  has  achieved  life  in  abundant  meas- 
ure. Having  imagination,  he  is  able  to  peer  into  the 
future,  anticipate  world  movements,  and  visualize  the 
paths  on  which  progress  will  travel.  Having  initiative 
as  his  badge  of  leadership,  he  is  able  to  rally  hosts  of 
men  to  his  standard  to  execute  his  behests  for  civic, 
national,  and  world  betterment.  Having  aspiration,  he 
obeys  the  divine  urge  within  him  and  moves  onward  and 
upward,  eager  to  plant  the  flag  of  progress  upon  the 
summit  that  others  may  see  and  be  stimulated  to  re- 
newed hope  and  courage. 

And  he  has  integrity,  for  he  is  a  real  man.  He  has 
wholeness,  completeness,  soundness,  and  roundness. 
He  is  an  integer  and  never  counts  for  less  than  one 
in  any  relation  of  life.  He  cannot  be  a  mere  cipher, 
for  he  is  dynamic.  He  rings  true  at  every  impact  of 
life,  is  free  from  dross  and  veneer,  and  is  genuine 
through  and  through.  There  was  arithmetic,  back 
along  the  line  somewhere,  but  it  has  been  absorbed  in 
the  big  quality  which  it  helped  to  generate  and  develop. 
And  it  is  better  so.  For  if  he  were  now  solving  deci- 
mals and  square  root  he  would  be  but  a  cog  and  not 
the  great  wheel  itself.  He  has  grown  beyond  his  arith- 
metic as  he  has  grown  beyond  his  boyhood  warts  and 
freckles,  for  the  larger  life  has  absorbed  them.  Yet 
he  feels  no  disdain  either  for  freckles  or  arithmetic, 
but  regards  them  as  gracious  incidents  of  youth  and 
growth.  He  cannot  read  his  Latin  as  he  once  could, 
but  he  does  not  grieve;  for  he  knows  it  has  not  been 
lost  but,  in  changed  form,  is  enshrined  in  the  heart  of 
integrity. 

Again,  he  has  the  qualities  of  thoroughness,  concen- 
tration, a  sense  of  responsibility,  loyalty,  and  serenity. 

[113] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

He  is  big  enough,  and  true  enough  both  to  himself  and 
others,  to  pursue  a  straight  and  steady  course.  To 
him,  life  is  a  boon,  a  privilege,  an  investment,  an 
opportunity,  a  responsibility,  and,  therefore,  a  gift  too 
precious  to  be  squandered  or  frivoled  away.  To  him, 
hours  are  of  fine  gold  and  should  be  seized  that  they 
may  be  fused  and  fashioned  into  a  statue  of  beauty. 
Being  loyal  to  this  conception,  he  moves  on  from 
achievement  to  achievement  nor  stops  to  note  that 
fragrant  flowers  of  blessing  and  benediction  are  spring- 
ing forth  luxuriantly  in  his  path.  His  spirit  is  big 
with  Tightness,  his  brain  is  clear,  his  conscience  is  clean, 
his  eyes  look  upward,  his  words  are  sincere,  his  thoughts 
are  lofty,  his  purposes  are  true,  and  his  acts  distill 
blessings.  He  is  no  mere  figment  of  fancy,  but  rather 
a  noble  reality  whose  prototype  may  be  found  on  the 
bench,  in  the  forum,  in  the  study,  in  the  sanctum,  in 
the  school  and  the  college,  in  the  factory,  on  the  farm, 
and  in  the  busy  mart. 

And,  withal,  he  is  a  success  as  a  human  being.  His 
sincerity  is  proverbial  in  all  things,  both  great  and 
small.  In  him  there  is  nothing  of  the  mystic,  the  her- 
mit, or  the  sybarite.  He  has  great  joy  of  life,  and 
this  joy  is  true,  honest,  and  real,  and  never  simulated. 
He  drinks  in  life  at  every  pore,  and  gives  forth  life 
that  invigorates  and  inspires  whomsoever  it  touches. 
His  laugh  is  the  expression  of  his  wholesome  nature; 
his  words  are  jewels  of  discrimination;  his  every  sen- 
tence bears  a  helpful  message;  his  fine  sense  of  humor 
mellows  and  illumines  every  situation;  and  his  face 
always  shows  forth  the  light  within.  Children  find 
delight  in  his  society,  and  the  exuberant  vitality  of  his 
nature  wins  for  him  the  friendship  of  all  living  creatures. 
Birds  seem  to  sing  for  him,  and  flowers  to  exhale  their 

[114] 


LIFE 

odors  for  his  delight.  For  the  influences  of  birds, 
flowers,  streams,  trees,  meadows,  and  mountains  are 
enmeshed  in  his  life.  Nature  reveals  her  secrets  to  him 
and  gives  to  him  of  her  treasures  because  he  goes  out 
to  meet  her.  Because  he  smiles  at  nature  she  smiles 
back  at  him,  and  the  union  of  their  smiles  gives  joy 
to  those  who  see. 

Moreover,  he  is  a  product  of  the  reconstructed  school, 
for  this  school  does  already  exist,  though  in  conspic- 
uous isolation.  But  the  oasis  is  accentuated  by  its 
isolation  in  the  desert  which  spreads  about  it  and  is  the 
more  inviting  by  contrast.  When,  as  a  child,  he  en- 
tered school,  the  teacher,  who  was  in  advance  of  her 
time  in  her  conception  of  the  true  function  of  the 
school,  made  a  close  and  sympathetic  appraisement 
of  his  aptitudes,  his  native  dispositions,  his  daily 
environment,  and  the  bent  of  his  inherent  spiritual 
qualities.  First  of  all,  she  won  his  confidence.  Thus 
he  found  freedom,  ease,  and  pleasure  in  her  pres- 
ence. Thus,  too,  there  ensued  unconscious  self-revela- 
tion and  nothing  in  his  life  evaded  her  kindly  scrutiny. 
He  opened  his  mind  to  her  frankly  and  fully,  and  never 
after  did  she  permit  the  closing  of  the  door.  Only 
so  could  she  become  his  teacher. 

She  regarded  him  as  an  opportunity  for  the  testing 
of  all  her  knowledge,  all  her  skill,  and  the  full  measure 
of  her  altruism.  Nor  was  he  the  proverbial  mass  of 
plastic  clay  to  be  molded  into  some  preconceived  form. 
Her  wisdom  and  modernity  interdicted  such  a  concep- 
tion of  childhood  as  that.  Rather,  he  was  a  growing 
plant,  waiting  for  her  skill  to  nurture  him  into  blossom 
and  fruitage.  Some  of  his  qualities  she  found  good; 
others  not.  The  good  ones  she  made  the  objects  of 
her  special  care;  the  others  she  allowed  to  perish  from 

[115] 


THE  RECONSTRUCTED  SCHOOL 

neglect.  Her  experience  in  gardening  had  taught  her 
that,  if  we  cultivate  the  potatoes  assiduously,  the  weeds 
will  disappear  and  need  not  concern  us.  She  discerned 
in  him  a  tender  shoot  of  imagination  and  this  she  nur- 
tured as  a  priceless  thing.  She  fertilized  it  with 
legend,  story,  song,  and  myth,  and  enveloped  it  in  an 
atmosphere  of  warmth  and  joyousness.  She  led  him 
into  nature's  realm,  that  his  imagination  might  plume 
its  wings  for  greater  flights  by  its  efforts  to  interpret 
the  heart  of  things  that  live.  Thus  his  imagination 
learned  to  traverse  space,  to  explore  sights  and  sounds 
his  senses  could  not  reach,  and  to  construct  for  him 
another  world  of  beauty  and  delight. 

So,  too,  with  the  other  spiritual  qualities.  Upon 
these  goals  her  gaze  was  fixed  and  she  gently  led  him 
toward  them.  She  taught  the  arithmetic  with  zest,  with 
large  understanding,  and  in  a  masterly  way,  for  she 
was  causing  it  to  serve  a  high  purpose.  Whatever 
study  she  found  helpful,  this  she  used  as  a  means  with 
gratitude  and  gladness.  If  she  found  the  book  ill 
adapted  to  her  purpose,  she  sought  or  wrote  another. 
If  pictures  proved  more  potent  than  books,  the  gal- 
leries obeyed  the  magic  of  her  skill  and  yielded  forth 
their  treasures.  She  yearned  to  have  her  pupil  win  the 
goals  before  him ;  everything  was  grist  that  came  to  her 
mill  if  only  it  would  serve  her  purpose.  She  disdained 
nothing  that  could  afford  nourishment  to  the  spirit 
of  the  child  and  give  him  zeal,  courage,  and  strength 
for  the  upward  journey.  If  more  arithmetic  was 
needful,  she  found  it;  if  more  history,  she  gave  it;  and 
if  the  book  on  geography  was  inadequate,  she  supple- 
mented from  libraries  or  from  her  own  abundant  store- 
house of  knowledge.  She  dared  to  deviate  from  the 
course  of  study,  if  thereby  the  child  might  more  cer- 


LIFE 

tainly  win  the  goals  toward  which  she  ever  looked  and 
worked. 

In  the  boy,  she  saw  a  poet,  a  philosopher,  a  prophet, 
an  artist,  a  musician,  a  statesman,  or  a  philanthropist, 
and  she  worked  and  prayed  that  the  artist  in  the  child 
might  not  die  but  that  he  might  grow  to  stalwart  man- 
hood to  glorify  the  work  of  her  school.  In  each  girl 
she  saw  another  Ruth,  or  Esther,  or  Cordelia,  or  Clara 
Barton,  or  Frances  Willard,  or  Florence  Nightingale, 
or  Rosa  Bonheur,  or  Mrs.  Stowe,  or  Mrs.  Browning. 
And  her  heart  yearned  over  each  one  of  these  and 
strove  with  power  to  nourish  them  into  vigorous  life 
that  they  might  become  jewels  in  her  crown  of  rejoic- 
ing. She  must  not  allow  one  to  perish  through  her 
ignorance  or  malpractice,  for  she  would  keep  her  soul 
free  from  the  charge  of  murder.  And  in  the  fullness 
of  manhood  and  womanhood  her  pupils  achieved  the 
full  symphony  of  life.  They  had  won  the  goals  toward 
which  their  teacher  had  been  leading.  Their  spiritual 
qualities  had  converged  and  become  life,  and  they  had 
attained  the  super-goal.  In  the  joy  of  their  achieve- 
ment their  teacher  repeated  the  words  of  her  own 
Teacher,  "  I  am  come  that  they  might  have  life,  and 
that  they  might  have  it  more  abundantly." 


[117] 


INDEX 


Altruism,  101 

American  civilization,  14 

Apple  tree,  75 

Arithmetic,  19;  as  means,  never 

as  end,  20 
Aspiration,  44-52 

Bible,  90 

Body,  mind,  spirit,  87 
Bogtrup,  51 
Browning,  45 

Cant,  55 

Children,  let  alone  when,  58 

Citizenship,  concept  of,  5 

Civilization,  6 

Clean  living,  10-11 

Columbus,  45 

Concept  of  life,  110 

Cooley,  51 

Course  of  study,  25 

Culture,  69 

David,  93 

Democracy,  2,  96-101;  spiritual 

attitude,  98 
Democratic  ideal,  100 
Destination,  17 
Dickens,  66 
Draft  board,  10 
Dynamic  teacher,  35 

Edison,  51 

Education,  newer  import  of,  9; 

definition  of,  36;  a  spiritual 

process,  104 
Esther,  94 
Excelsior,  50 

Farmers,  65 
Field,  45 
Froebel,  48 

Future   as   related  to  present, 
17-26 

Galileo,  66 
Geography,  49 


Grandchildren,  12 
Great  Stone  Face,  3 

Hand,  74 

Harvey's  Grammar,  78 

Henderson,    C.     Hanford,    64, 

67 

Hercules,  78 
History,  51 
Hodge,  76 
Hugo,  Victor,  72 
Hungry  pupils,  47 

Ideals,  63 

Imagination,  62-69 

"Impart  instruction,"  39 

Incompleteness,  32 

Incorrigibility,  30 

Initiative,  53-61 

Integrity,   27-35;    meaning   of, 

28 
Inventions,  66 

Job,  76 
Jove,  22 

Keats,  40 

Kipling,  99 

Knowledge  and  wisdom,  90 

Life,  110-115 
Lincoln,  27 
Loyalty,  87-95 

Madonna  of  the  Chair,  89 

Major  ends,  25 

Man-made  course  of  study,  33 

Manual  training,  59 

Minerva,  22 

Minor  ends,  25 

Model  man,  83-86 

Model  woman,  82-83 

Mother,  94 


Napoleon,  40 
North  Star,  72 


[1191 


INDEX 


Objects  of  teaching,  18 
Old  age,  37 
Old  Glory,  95 
Olympus,  16 

Parker,  48 

Past  as  related  to  the  present, 
10-16 

Paternalism,  60 

Pestalozzi,  48 

Physical  training,  32 

Physician,  81 

Preliminary  survey  of  task  be- 
fore reconstructed  school,  1-8 

Present,  as  related  to  the  past, 
10-16;  as  related  to  the  fu- 
ture, 17-26 

Process  of  reconstruction,  16 

Question  and  answer  method, 
41 

Reactions,  88 

Reconstructed     school,     survey 

of,  1 
Relation    of    past    to    present, 

10-16 

Reserve-power,  108 
Respect,  70 
Responsibility,  78-86 
Revelation,  91 
Reverence,  70-77 
Ruth,  94 

Samson,  78 
Sandow,  78 

School  is  cross-section  of  life, 
36 


Serenity,  102-109;  deaned,  102 
Shakespeare,  41 
Sin,  111 
Sluggard,  38 
Socrates,  108-109 
Spiritual  attitude,  84 
Spiritual  coward,  80 
Spiritual  hysteria,  104 
Standardized  children,  29 
Statistics,  107 
Stimuli,  88 

Stuart,  Ruth  McEnery,  48-49 
Survey   of   task   before   recon- 
structed school,  1-8 
Swift,  Edgar  James,  57,  62 

Teachers,  kinds  of,  7;  test  of, 

104-105 

Teaching,  objects  of,  18 
Thoroughness,  23 
Tractor,  54 
Tradition,  21 
Traditional  teacher,  35 
Truth,  76 

Unity,  dawn  of,  4 

Van  Dyke,  Henry,  61,  99 

Wall  Street,  15 

War  gardens,  97 

Wells,  H.  G.,  96 

Words,  73 

World-minded    superintendents 

and  teachers,  8 
World  war,  10 


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